Fire and the Night
by Merlin Missy
Summary: Consequences 4. A child's life hangs in the balance between the fire and the night.
1. Chapter 1

VVVVV  
Consequences Part Four: Fire and the Night (1/3)  
a Gargoyles story  
by Merlin Missy  
Copyright 2001, 2005  
PG  
VVVVV

My eternal thanks goes to Constance Cochran and Nicole Mason, for some  
of the best and most constructive beta reading I've ever had. Thank you  
guys, for everything.

Suggested reading: all of the "Consequences" series, and Nancy Brown's  
"Hysteresis"

Most characters belong to Walt Disney/Buena Vista, to Greg Weisman,  
Frank Paur and sundry members of the "Gargoyles" production team, or to  
Ron Koslow/Republic Pictures. No infringement on their property is  
intended or should be inferred. Anybody in this story who doesn't belong  
to anyone else belongs to me, but probably can be hired out for birthday  
parties and bar/bat mitzvahs.

The excerpt is from Guy Wetmore Carryl's "How Jack Found That Beans  
May Go Back on a Chap."

VVVVV  
Prelude  
VVVVV

Pain.

He could not remember when he'd been in such impossible agony ---  
neither ache nor soreness nor the knifing pain of a blow or blast, but the  
unbelievable, inescapable torment of a body broken beyond its capacity to  
stay sane. He felt the sharp ends of what had been his bones, poking  
through seared skin like a mad seamstress' pincushion. Blood filled his  
mouth, coppery and salty, his own life escaping into the thirsty ground.

With a herculean effort, he moved his left index finger. He moved it  
again.

_I'm going to live,_ he thought. _I'm going to live I'm going to live  
I'm going to live if it kills me._ The ludicrous thought made him laugh,  
but the only sound that came was a kind of wet cough.

He moved his thumb. Dimly, he was aware that night was about to  
end, that a new day would start and he was going to live to see it.

There was a grinding in his chest, and in absent analysis he knew he'd  
punctured at least one lung. No matter. He _was_ going to live, by force  
of will alone if necessary.

And they were going to pay.

VVVVV  
December, 1997  
VVVVV

"The Moral is that gardeners pine ... "

He glanced up to see his pupil's attention was not on the poem but on  
Detective Maza. She had found a comfortable perch, and was reading a  
paperback novel by the unseasonably warm rays of afternoon sunlight  
streaming over the tower. Alexander appeared to be fascinated by the  
scantily clad man and woman on the cover of her book.

Owen cleared his throat. Alexander's wide blue-green eyes turned  
back to him, but he continued to fidget as Owen finished the poem:

"The Moral is that gardeners pine  
Whene'er no pods adorn the vine.  
Of all sad words experience gleans  
The saddest are: 'It _might_ have beans.'  
(I did not make this up myself:  
'Twas in a book upon my shelf.  
It's witty, but I don't deny  
It's rather Whittier than I!)"

He allowed himself a half-smile, noted Alexander's complete lack of  
attention, and sighed.

"When you're about twenty, you'll find that quite amusing."

"'Kay. 'Nother cracker?"

"What do we say?"

"Peas." As Owen handed him a saltine, the roof speaker buzzed.  
Someone was calling the residence line.

He stood, dusted cracker crumbs from his suit, and looked at  
Alexander. The child was happily licking his cracker into a soggy mess,  
and looked to be staying put for a few minutes. Besides, Detective Maza  
was less than fifteen feet away.

The speaker buzzed again, and he hurried downstairs to answer it.

"Yes?"

"It's Vogel." Owen relaxed. "Mr. Renard is in the hospital again. I  
thought Mrs. Xanatos should be informed."

"Is it serious?"

"No more than usual. Dr. Tribbut would like to keep him for  
observation. He does not see a need for Dr. Howard to be consulted."

Owen paused. He had privately disagreed with the decision to bring  
the Xanatos' personal physician onto Renard's case, an opinion he kept to  
himself. "I will inform Mrs. Xanatos when she returns."

"Thank you." Owen clicked the phone down, then lifted it again and  
dialed Fox's cellular. She could drop by to visit on her way home from  
shopping.

VVVVV

Elisa closed her book and yawned. Sunset would be in just a few  
minutes, and she needed to stretch. She stood, cracked her wrists and  
ankles, then strolled over to the ledge and looked downwards. Rush hour  
traffic crawled along below her, but from this height, she could not hear  
the horns, the shouts. Everything below her was a gently moving stream,  
and she smiled at the peace.

Something tickled at the back of her mind. Things were too quiet.  
She turned around, frowning, and saw the empty blanket spread out over a  
grassy spot. Owen had been reading to Alex earlier, had gone downstairs  
to answer the phone. Had he taken the kid?

"Alex?" she called, not loudly, walking toward the blanket. Crumbs  
covered much of it, and she noticed a half-eaten cracker in the brown  
grass.

"Hey kid. Alex. Are you up here?" She heard a giggle from the  
direction of certain statuary, and her stomach clenched as she looked.

Alexander was fine, by very strict definitions of the word "fine." He  
sat suspended in midair, floating over Lexington's frozen head and poking  
Lex's nose.

Elisa had just enough time to recall something about "equal and  
opposite reactions" as the force of the poke gently pushed Alex over the  
edge of the tower. He laughed again, unmindful of being more than one  
hundred storeys above street level.

She swallowed, and approached Alex and Lex as slowly as she dared.  
She'd seen enough of his training sessions to know that if he broke his  
concentration, he'd be a grease spot. Shouting for Owen could be enough.  
Distracting him could be enough. Silently, she damned herself for not  
paying better attention to what had been going on around her, damned  
Puck for teaching the kid how to levitate as soon as he could walk.

She reached the ledge a few feet from where Alex floated, and sidled  
closer to him, making no sudden moves. He turned his head toward her  
and smiled. "Hi 'Lisa!"

"Hi Alex. Will you come over here, please?"

"No." He reached out and poked Lex again, drifting further away from  
the castle.

"Alex, please come over here."

"No."

Sunset was still a few minutes away. When it came, Lex's awakening  
could be enough to kill Alexander.

Elisa stepped lightly onto the ledge and moved beside Lex. Alex was  
now three feet away from the edge, and not at all interested in coming  
back.

She got to her knees, crouching much as Brooklyn did not far from  
where she waited. She bit her lip, and hooked her ankles around Lex's  
legs.

Elisa really really hoped this would work.

"Alex, do you want a cracker?"

"Cracker!" said Alex, and he started to drop. Elisa pounced, grabbing  
Alexander roughly around the waist and falling hard against the side of the  
castle. Her legs protested as they took the unexpected force on her ankles  
and lower shins. For a heart-stopping second, Elisa feared she'd slip, or  
that the force would be enough to break Lex's legs.

Alex started to cry. Elisa, head filling with blood from being upside-  
down, felt like joining him. She had the kid, with no idea of how to get  
back up, and when Lex awoke, they were certain to fall.

"Just great ... " She heard an intake of breath, and a sound she could  
only describe as a sparkle, before feeling herself suddenly untangled from  
Lex's legs. She held tight to Alex as she levitated up and was gently set  
down, safe on the castle's stones.

Puck floated before her, pale face even whiter than usual.

"Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," she said, before realizing he'd not been talking to her. He  
plucked Alex from her arms, and touched a scrape on the child's cheek.

"Ow," said Alex. "Cracker?"

"Yes, you can have a cracker," said Puck, drifting himself and child  
over to where the box still lay on the blanket. Elisa sat down on the wall  
as her knees turned to jelly. Had she just been hanging over the edge?  
Again?

Puck poked and prodded his protege until he was satisfied nothing had  
been broken, then, Alex still safely in his grasp, came back over to her.

"Detective? Were you injured?" The fear had left his voice, but the  
playfulness had yet to return.

She waved him off. "I'm fine." She rubbed her calves  
experimentally. "Yeah, just fine."

"I don't know how to thank you," he said.

She shrugged. "How about keeping a better eye on him the next time?  
We _are_ a little high up from the sidewalk."

"I shall."

An awkward moment passed, filled only with the sound of chewing.

"Are you sure you're all right?"

"I'm fine. Really. Shouldn't you be ... um ... someone else now that  
everything's okay?"

He shrugged and shivered into the form she knew better. Alex  
laughed, as he often did when his Uncle did his trick. Owen looked about  
to ask her something, probably again with her health, when the sun edged  
under the skyline.

The night filled with cracking and popping, and Elisa went to greet the  
being she loved more than any other in the world.

VVVVV

Owen placed Alexander in his crib. The boy stirred in his sleep, then  
rolled onto his side. Owen drew the blanket over him and brushed his  
bandaged cheek softly. It was barely damaged; Dr. Howard had placed a  
bit of Neosporin on a Band-Aid and glared at Owen for not doing this  
himself. He had not mentioned to her the circumstances surrounding the  
injury. Alex's training provided a perpetual schedule of bumps and  
bruises.

He'd slipped up.

He had assumed his charge would be fine, when he'd known in his  
heart that the last place a young child should be was a rooftop. Certainly  
the detective had been close by, but Alexander had not been her  
responsibility, and he had not asked her to watch him.

Another minute, and both would have died, and it would have been his  
fault.

Had the detective not been there at all, Alexander assuredly would  
have fallen. His concentration was simply not good enough to maintain  
levitation over long distances. Would he, Puck, have been able to  
determine the child's position in sufficient time to rescue him? It was not  
a question he wanted to consider, but it plagued him nonetheless. If the  
boy died, his own life would shortly be forfeit.

Like it or not, Detective Maza had saved the child's life, and in  
extension, his own.

He watched Alexander sleep. "What are we to do about that, my dear  
boy? What are we to do?"

VVVVV  
Interlude  
VVVVV

They knew of beginnings and endings. Creatures in the stream existed,  
and ceased to exist. They knew their own beginning, recalled with  
something not quite memory the feel of the Maker's hand, as he wrought  
them from iron and gold and borrowed magics, and presented them to the  
Lord of the Isle. They had seen the Maker's beginning, and his end, and  
with that which could not be grief, they mourned his ephemeral existence.  
Although they had not seen their own ending, they knew it must surely  
come to pass. They had known what creatures in the stream called gods,  
but they themselves were not such a thing. They knew themselves to be  
something ... different.

Through countless eons, they moved and watched, traveling with this  
master and that, never interfering, always observing. They spent a  
thousand years, less than a heartbeat of their existence, broken in two equal  
pieces, one learning, the other sleeping and waiting for the inevitable  
joining.

They were very good at waiting.

And then they knew. They saw him at a distance at first, one of many  
creatures, no greater or lesser than all the rest. As they traveled, they  
encountered him again and again.

Observing was useful to a point. They could not act, even when they knew  
a tiny push in another direction could change the balance towards what  
they thought of as the good. They needed hands, and a voice, and they  
knew the face of the one who would be so.

It was not in their experience to be surprised, so when they found  
themselves suddenly tossed free into the stream without a master, without  
a guiding mind, they merely floated, and waited for the time to be right.

They knew all about the right time.

VVVVV

Fox let herself into her father's room at Manhattan Presbyterian. No  
guard, she noticed, and made a note to have someone sent. Her father was  
an important man, even more so because of his relationship with her and  
her family. Anything could happen.

"Hello, Daddy," she said, slipping into a chair beside him.

"Janine." He continued looking over the papers in his hand for a  
moment, then removed his reading glasses. "As you can see, I'm fine."

"You're not fine. You fainted again."

"And I was fine. Len's just using this for an excuse to give me a  
physical before Christmas."

"I don't want Len on your case anymore."

Her father pinched the bridge of his nose. "We've had this  
conversation. I like him. I trust him. He doesn't lie to me."

"Dr. Howard doesn't lie to you either. And she's more up to date on  
possible treatments for your condition. I'll be sending her over tomorrow."

"I don't want her here."

"Daddy, it's like this. I want the same thing you want. I want you to  
be better. I want you to be able to play with Alex's children."

"That's not going to happen."

Fox drew back. "I'll make it happen." But she knew. She  
remembered the last conversation they'd both had with Len Tribbut. No,  
he wouldn't lie to her father. He'd told him plainly that there was no way  
to know the future. Renard could live another twenty years like this,  
always weak, deteriorating at a faster or slower rate depending on how  
much stress he allowed into his life. He could have a sudden attack and be  
dead in a week. No test or treatment could determine or truly affect that  
outcome.

Fox didn't like that answer. In her experience, there was no problem  
that could not be solved if one threw sufficient time, interest and money at  
the solution.

Instead of thinking about it, she opened the bag she had brought in  
with her; most of the shopping was back in the limo. "I found this for  
Alex today," she said, pulling out a royal blue bunny with a navy-colored  
ruff ringing its plush throat. "I couldn't resist. I know we've got more  
than enough toys for under the tree this year ... "

"You're spoiling him."

"I'm not. I'm making sure he never has to ask for anything."

"I repeat." He looked down into the bag. "What's the pink thing?"

"Oh." She pulled out a matching pink bunny. "I picked one up for  
Jasmine, too. I shipped her presents yesterday, so I'll save this for her  
birthday." And if she'd gone a teensy bit overboard on the other child as  
well as her own, that was her business.

"Alexander doesn't need so many toys. I've seen his playroom. He  
won't have room to walk. Or float. Or whatever the hell Owen is teaching  
him."

"We've already arranged to give most of his old toys away to kids who  
need them, and everything I've got downstairs is going to the shelters we  
sponsor. You need to have a little faith in me now and then."

He looked at her, in what she hoped was a new way. "Maybe," he  
said, after a while. "Maybe I do."

VVVVV

Elisa rapped softly on the frame of the broken doorway. Maggie  
looked up from her rocking chair, the one they'd scavenged a year ago, and  
nodded. Elisa came into the chamber, and watched entranced as her  
nephew finished his supper.

"I'll burp him," she offered. Maggie handed her the baby and a spit  
rag. Elisa placed rag and child on her shoulder and patted his back as she  
swayed from side to side. Maggie sat back in her chair.

"That's the most he's eaten in a while," she said, fastening her shirt.

"What a good boy," said Elisa, and kissed the back of his head. A tiny  
belch came in response. "And again a good boy." She turned him around  
and settled him into her arms, where he almost instantly fell asleep.

"I brought the toys. You sure you have wrapping paper?"

"Plenty. We've been scavenging newspapers for months. I'll have the  
kids do the wrapping. Thank you, again, for doing this."

"Hey, it's no problem. Just don't tell Derek where half of them came  
from."

"Agreed." Elisa, with input from her mother, had bought the presents  
that would go to the clones and to Daniel, would wrap them and bring  
them herself. But there were dozens of children in the Labyrinth, children  
whose parents didn't give a damn about Xanatos and wouldn't care who  
had donated toys. Derek would care, and truth be told, Elisa herself cared,  
and so the gifts for their family would be separate. It was a way of keeping  
score.

"Where _are_ the kids?" asked Elisa.

"Brent's off playing with some of the children." She saw Elisa's look.  
"They've gotten much better around him. Most of them have known the  
kids over a year, and some can't remember life before them. Boo and  
Banky are off patrolling with Derek. He thinks he might allow them out  
on their own after the turn of the year."

"Good for them." Malibu had been emulating Derek more and more  
in recent months. Elisa thought it was sweet, and heartening. She was  
surprised to hear that Burbank was doing the same, but she was pleased  
nonetheless.

The baby made a noise, and his breath came in tiny gasps. "Maggie ...  
"

Maggie plucked him from Elisa's arms and slapped him once, hard,  
flat against the back between his tiny wings. He shuddered, then settled  
into a more normal breathing pattern.

"Maggie?"

"He'll be fine, now. It's been working fairly well. Just got to, you  
know, jump start his lungs now and then."

Not for the first time, Elisa noticed the darkness under Maggie's eyes.  
Daniel slept in the same room with his parents; over the months this had  
happened uncounted times. His breath would come in spurts, or not at all,  
and they'd have to be awake enough to hear him, and to bring him back.

Elisa pushed the tears away. No good to be crying in front of the  
baby's mother, who deserved the opportunity to cry so much more than  
Elisa did. Daniel was so small for his nine months, wee leonine face  
scrunched in what she could only assume was pain, and he was so very  
weak.

"Hey baby," she said to him, touching him under the chin. "Hey, baby  
boy." He didn't stir.

"He'll be fine," said Maggie again. Whether or not she believed it,  
Elisa did not dare ask. Instead, she spent a long moment watching her  
nephew sleep.

He favored his mother, which was to say he looked like a very little  
lion with tawny hair surrounding his face in a gilded mane. Like his  
parents, his skin was covered by a fine pelt of velvety hair, midway in  
depth between Maggie's amber and Derek's midnight brown. The small  
wings, for the accommodation of which all his baby clothes had been  
altered to have flaps in the back, were slightly darker than the rest of him,  
and covered in the same fine fur over their leathery thinness. His eyes  
were slitted, and surrounded by irises the color of the sea. Tiny claws  
tipped his fingers, and once, when he'd thrown a rare temper tantrum, he'd  
given Derek a bad shock, literally.

"Hi, Elisa!" 'Lilah, Holly and Claw came into the room. Claw  
waved, then made a series of abbreviated signs she didn't recognize. Holly  
laughed and 'Lilah beamed in mirth.

"What was that?"

"Claw says your nose is so red you could be Santa Claus," said Holly.

"Thanks, Claw," said Elisa, and the Mutate grinned toothily at her.

"Can I hold him?" asked 'Lilah, as she usually did.

"Okay, but be careful," cautioned Maggie, as she also usually did. She  
handed her son to 'Lilah, and then stood, stretching her back and wings.

Daniel had been born a month after 'Lilah's egg. Whether or not the  
egg would ever hatch was not something they wanted to consider. Delilah  
seemed convinced that it would, and in the meantime, she wanted to spend  
lots of time with Daniel to practice for when her baby hatched.

"I'm going to go with Elisa for a few minutes," said Maggie. "Call me  
if anything happens."

"Okay." The clones went back to playing with the baby.

"C'mon, Claw," said Elisa. "You can help us carry things." Claw  
shrugged and followed them.

"You've been leaving her alone with Daniel?" asked Elisa when they  
were out of earshot.

"Somewhat. She's been very good with him, and she deserves some  
responsibility. Two more women are expecting next year. We're setting  
up a nursery in the upper level, and I think 'Lilah should help out in it."  
Claw signed an "h" over his belly. Maggie nodded. "Holly, too. He's  
very good around the younger children."

"Our kids are growing up fast."

Something passed over Maggie's face and was gone, and Elisa  
regretting saying it. Not all of the kids would grow up. In silence, they  
went to get the toys.

VVVVV

"Ah ha! Found you," Elisa said, scooping her book from the ground.  
A night out in the air had not apparently damaged the cheap cover, for  
which Elisa was grateful. Beth would have killed her. Elisa flipped  
through the pages; none were more dog-eared than when her sister had first  
handed it to her at Thanksgiving and said, "You've _got_ to read this."

She gave an affectionate glance to Goliath, caught in a menacing snarl  
for the day. "Wonder who's in trouble this time?"

There was a noise behind her, a soft clearing of throat that would not  
deign to be something so crass as a cough. She cocked her head at Owen.  
"Yeah?"

"Detective." He looked uncomfortable, like something had flown into  
his boxers. She entertained herself with that thought for a moment. "I  
must speak with you."

"If it's about my car, I'm only there for a minute."

His glasses flashed. "I am not referring to your parking place." The  
discomfort remained, and Elisa started feeling itchy in her spine.

"I need to go." She exaggerated a yawn.

"You saved the child, when I put him into danger." The words were  
quiet, clear in the cold air.

She shrugged. "Part of the job. Don't worry about it."

"I have to worry. I dislike owing debts."

"Then don't," she said flatly, getting annoyed. She never could  
understand fay codes and laws, and she was too tired to find out now. "It's  
fine."

"There must be some item or doing you want." Another tone entered  
his voice, not quite wheedling, not quite coaxing. "Come now, Detective,  
you can think of something. Riches? Long life? Wings and a tail?"

Her memory prodded her, muttering of a night when she glided high  
above the city on wings of her very own, Goliath at her side. Then she  
thought of Derek, gliding on wings he could not lose. Owen had helped  
Xanatos deceive her brother into his transformation, and she knew from  
experience the usual outcome of the Puck's "gifts."

"No thanks," she said. "I don't need any favors from you. I need to  
go." She turned away from him, and hurried down the stairs.

VVVVV

Gwen Howard was having a good day. It had been unseasonably  
warm this morning, and she'd walked to the hospital without her jacket.  
She'd checked in with the nurses coming off the night shift to see how her  
patient was faring. His blood pressure was finally coming back to normal,  
and he'd asked for solid food. The steak was out of the question, but she  
made a note that he could have a small amount of chicken and potatoes at  
lunch.

While his daily visitor was with him, she'd gone to L&D for a quick  
hello; Gwen had interned at Manhattan Pres and still had many friends on  
the staff.

Mr. Vogel left before morning Visitor's Hours were finished,  
presumably to do whatever he and her patient had decided would best  
benefit the company today. Gwen watched him go with a slight frown.  
She was certain her patient would be healthier and suffer fewer attacks  
from his disease if he'd slow down and not worry quite so much about  
Cyberbiotics every waking minute.

She went in to check on her patient. "How are we feeling?" she asked  
as she took his wrist. He hated the heart monitor, and refused to allow it  
so long as he was conscious.

"We're fine. Shouldn't you be back at the castle making sure my  
grandson doesn't catch the measles?"

"Alexander is current on all his shots. I have time to spend here with  
you."

"Great for me."

"I've scheduled an MRI for tomorrow morning."

"I've had three MRI's. I don't need another one."

"You haven't had one in the past six months. I'd like to see if we can  
see a change from the last time and perhaps explain why the frequency of  
your blackouts has increased."

He mumbled something that she chose not to catch as she left the  
room.

A woman waited outside, sitting on the chair normally occupied by the  
security guard Mrs. Xanatos had posted there. As Gwen stepped into the  
corridor, she stood and went to enter Mr. Renard's room.

"Excuse me, you can't go in there." Where was Harvey?

The woman narrowed her blue-green eyes, and something clicked in  
Gwen's mind, flashing on a picture Mrs. Xanatos had shown her  
accompanied by a gift and very specific instructions.

The picture had been of a woman with long auburn hair, eyes like the  
ocean, and a slight smile. The woman before her had dropped the smile,  
but the eyes were the same.

Gwen shoved her hand into her pant pocket and pulled out her  
keyring: car key, apartment key, master key to the medical wing of the  
Eyrie Building, mace, and a petite but sharp knife of pure iron bound in a  
stylish black leather sheath. She whipped off the sheath and held the blade  
threateningly in front of her, oblivious to the jingle of the keys against the  
mace.

"You stay away from him," Gwen ordered.

Her heart raced. Gwen could still remember the stories her  
grandmother had told her about the Old Country, about the elves, the  
pixies, and the fairies, about puccas who drew travelers astray, and the  
little men who crept outside at night, doing mischiefs. Gwen even knew  
that not all the denizens of Castle Wyvern were human, including the ones  
who looked it. She wasn't sure exactly what manner of creature stood  
before her Mrs. Xanatos had been a bit unsure herself on the point  
but she would be damned if it got past her to work evil on her patient.

The woman looked down at the knife. Gwen's eyes followed her  
gaze. It was such a small thing, barely three inches long.

_Leave a bowl of cream outside,_ said her grandmother's voice in her  
head unhelpfully. Gwen doubted the woman would go away if offered a  
bowl of anything.

"It's iron," said Gwen. "Now leave quietly and I won't shout for  
help."

"I wonder," said Anastasia Renard, "What did she tell you about  
me? We haven't talked in a while."

"She told me what you are."

"She doesn't know what I am. And you," she said, reaching out with  
deft fingers and taking Gwen's wrist. Her hand went numb and she  
dropped the knife. Without meaning to, without wanting to, she sat down  
in Harvey's chair as the woman's other hand touched to her forehead like a  
cat's kiss. "You won't even know I was here."

Gwen's eyes drifted closed.

In her dream, a great black horse stamped a foot impatiently until she  
hoisted herself to its back. Obsidian hooves struck the earth, casting  
sparks behind them. Her fingers entwined in its coarse mane as they raced  
headlong through midnight and misty moors.

VVVVV

Preston had tweaked the blinds in his room so that if he strained his  
head just so, he could see the top of the building across the street from the  
hospital. No trees, no skyscrapers, just a view of sterile brick and concrete  
occasionally interrupted by a pigeon, perching to check out the world  
below. At least it was something to look at besides the paperwork.

The door to his room creaked. Renard scowled. It was bad enough  
that his own doctor had been supplanted by Janine's medical spy, but the  
woman insisted on bothering him constantly, shooing Preston away when  
he needed most to be conferring with the boy, and making Renard feel far  
older than he was.

"If this is about another damned test," he growled, turning his head  
reluctantly.

"No tests," said the voice that wasn't his doctor.

In the space of a second, his mind filled with things to say:

_You always were a test._

_Can't you stay gone?_

_What the hell do you want?_

_I love you._

He opened his mouth and managed a half-hearted "Urk."

She smiled, and came to his bedside. He shrank against the other side,  
knowing the fool he must look for cowering from his ex-wife.

"Get away from me," he spat, breath coming rapidly.

She stopped, hurt, and took a pace back. "I'd hoped you might start  
with 'Hello.'"

Alert. He could. Alert the staff. Yes. He fumbled for the call button.

"Halcyon, please don't."

He got his thumb onto the button and pressed, hard. "Get out."

She folded her arms. "Do we really need to go through this?"

"You tried to take him away. That blue bastard you married tried to  
kill me, kill all of us, and you didn't raise a finger to stop him."

The door opened again, and two nurses rushed into the room. "What's  
wrong, Mr. Renard?" asked the first, ignoring Anastasia and coming to  
him to take his pulse.

"Get her out of here," he said between clenched teeth. The first nurse  
turned to her companion.

"We're here to help you, Mr. Renard," said the other nurse.

"Jenn, step outside," said the nurse at his side. "Send in Carol." The  
second nurse left the room. Anastasia stood quietly, a smile at her lips.

And he knew.

He pulled his arm away from the nurse. "Never mind. I'm fine.  
Thought I saw something." He waved her away.

"Your pulse is racing and you're obviously agitated. You're not fine."

"I will be." He gave her a fake smile. "Sorry for troubling you, dear."

"Mr. Renard ... "

"And it's 'Doctor.' Please. I'll be all right. Just need some sleep."

She pursed her lips. "I'd like to get Dr. Howard."

"That would be fine." The nurse left the room, but left the door ajar.

Anastasia remained where she stood, but tapped the door closed again.

"Tell me," he said, "Was there any time during our marriage when you  
made yourself invisible that I should know about?"

"There were times," she admitted. "It was easier to get work done in  
the lab when I wasn't there to be asked questions."

"Ask me how much I hate you."

"You don't."

"No. I don't. I should. But I don't."

"We should talk."

"I don't want to talk to you. I don't want to think about you. You lied  
to me, and you betrayed me, and you tried to steal away the one thing, the  
_one thing_, that proved our life together wasn't a complete waste."

"Ah," she said, and sat in the green plastic chair the hospital provided  
for visitors.

"That's all you can say?"

"What do you want me to say?"

"An apology would be a good start."

"No."

He let out a disgusted breath. "That figures."

"I won't apologize for being what I am. I can't change that."

"You lied to me for over thirty years."

"What did you expect me to do?" Annoyance crept into her voice, and  
silently, he cheered. Even during their time together, he could rarely get a  
rise out of her. "Come to my interview and say, 'Hi, I'm the Queen of the  
Fairies, give me a job?'"

"You could have told me," he insisted.

"No, I couldn't have. I couldn't tell you when I met you, because we  
don't tell people. Others have tried, and died for it. And after, what was I  
going to say? That I'd been lying to you since we met? That I wasn't even  
the same species as you? That I couldn't tell you for certain what species  
our child was?"

"Do you think that would have mattered to me?"

"Apparently it does."

He slumped back onto his pillows, angry. "It would have been  
different if you'd told me yourself."

"I never would have," she replied. "And you never would have  
known, and you would have been happier never knowing."

"But Big Blue blew your cover."

She shrugged. "I suspected he would, as soon as I knew he would call  
for the Gathering. These things have a way of happening."

"You could have stayed with him, on that island." He paused.  
"L'Isle. You know, I never even noticed?"

A grin came and went. "We have a weakness for puns."

"Weakness is a good word for it. But you could have stayed there, not  
come back. He wouldn't have found out about Janine or Alexander."

"Except of course when he came looking for the Puck."

"Who also should have been high-tailing it to Avalon."

"Do you honestly think either of us would have missed Alexander's  
birth for the world?"

"If it would have kept him safe, you both should have."

"Oberon would have met him during his life no matter what we did. I  
am certain. And instead of being a weak quarterling with barely a grasp of  
the simplest magics, he will grow to be a powerful sorcerer with a chance  
... " She broke off, found something interesting to watch on his bedspread.

"A chance to what?" She was old, she was young, she was as  
changeable as the seas in her eyes, but she had also been his wife and he  
knew the movements of her face when she was holding something inside.  
"Is our grandson going to fight Oberon?" The air left his lungs.

"Perhaps. If so, not for a very long time, long enough for Puck to train  
the boy and for me to change Oberon's mind."

"You have to tell them." Already, his mind raced with images. Alex  
would have to be trained ceaselessly in things he himself could barely  
fathom. All of their combined efforts had failed even to significantly slow  
Oberon down the last time.

"Puck knows. What he chooses to tell Fox and David is up to his  
judgment."

"How long ... " The questions assaulted him again. "How long have  
you known about this?"

She came to his side and took his hand. "Do you understand anything  
about prophecy?"

He thought. Nostradamus and his poems. Biblical texts. The late-  
night psychics on the telephone.

"No."

"What about chaos theory?"

There he was on more familiar ground. "Enough."

"Then let me say this. The world is infinitely chaotic. But there are  
nodes, times and places where the chaos distills down to a single question  
of yes or no. My kind are very good at figuring out where the nodes are,  
and where the two paths will lead. We can use this to predict the future, or  
at least possible futures as opposed to futures that simply cannot be. A  
rare few of us see the future that will be rather than the paths that could."

"But ... "

"Most of our kind care about what benefits or harms them personally.  
Those who can see the future as it will be do so only in often-confusing  
glimpses, and fear that what they see will upset one of their brethren, or  
their Lord, so they keep quiet and keep living. At least one Seer I know of  
is mad, and one," she smiled, with some bitterness, "has little reason to  
trust me. So all I have are possibilities with which to guide me, and I don't  
know which decision will lead down which path.

"So the answer to your question is that I have known that something  
could occur for over two thousand years, but I will not know for certain  
unless and until it actually happens."

"So," he said, "You think you know things that could happen, but in  
reality, you're guessing."

"Yes."

"Welcome back to the human race." Her eyes crinkled, and for a  
moment, he knew her for the woman he'd loved for over three decades.

"I didn't come to talk mysticism with you."

"So why did you come?"

"As I said, we need to talk."

"We've talked. You've tried to explain to me that it's all right that  
you lied because you're what you are, and it's all right that you tried to  
take Alexander away from his parents because now instead of Oberon  
maybe meeting him in some future he now assuredly knows of Alex's  
existence and will probably kill him. Have I been following correctly?"

"So you do hate me."

"No, but I should. And you should leave now."

"Halcyon."

"Go. I need time. To think."

"All right. I'll be in the city for the next few days. I'd like to see how  
Alexander is growing."

"Don't expect a warm reception."

"I should know better by now." She turned and left the room without  
saying goodbye.

He almost called her back, but said nothing as the door closed. He  
turned back to face the window, and craned his neck to look for pigeons.

VVVVV

Goliath woke and shook off the remaining stone bits from his body.  
Another crisp evening had begun. He took a quick look around the  
rooftop, but Elisa was nowhere to be seen. He hid his disappointment.  
Elisa had been there at his awakening most nights since ...

He smiled, very slightly, at the memory, and hid that as well. What  
had passed between him and his love was not something to be discussed in  
front of the clan.

He glanced at Broadway, whose face watched Angela's empty perch  
with open mourning. Especially not now. His daughter had been gone for  
just over a year, a fortnight in the magical land she visited. She had  
returned there to attend on the death of the first mother she'd known, but  
the longer she stayed away, the less likely it seemed she would ever return.

Broadway wasn't the only one to ache at her absence.

"Hudson," Goliath said abruptly. "Come with me on patrol tonight.  
Brooklyn, a word?"

His second leapt from his own perch and came to him. "I thought  
Broadway and I had the patrol tonight?"

Goliath indicated Brooklyn should walk with him, waiting until they  
were no longer within easy earshot of the rest. "I want you and Lexington  
to stay in tonight. Cheer up Broadway. I don't care how."

Brooklyn sighed. "I don't know if _we_ can."

Goliath read his unspoken words. "She will return."

"When he's Hudson's age?"

"Soon."

"She said that a year ago. And, um, didn't she have a boyfriend back  
home?"

"She will return," repeated Goliath, and turned from him. "Hudson,  
when you're ready."

Hudson nodded, and Goliath hopped to his perch, spread his wings,  
and jumped into the night sky.

Angela would come back. He knew it.

VVVVV  
Interlude  
VVVVV

Angela woke with a roar on her perch. She stretched, and for a  
moment, believed that she had never left home, that all of the preceding  
year had been a dream, that down in the courtyard her three rookery  
parents would be even now bringing out breakfast.

And she leaned over and saw the fairies at their sport, and knew  
everything was changed.

She had been back on Avalon only a short time, and she was happy to  
be among her rookery siblings, but she missed the World, and her father,  
and the clan.

An ache poked at her deeply between her ribs. She missed Broadway.

"Good evening, sister," said Gabriel, too merrily for her liking. She  
knew he was glad to have her back, even for what had brought her.

"I'm going to go check on Princess Katharine," she said.

"I'll help you," he said, falling in step with her.

"Fine."

The Princess was slumbering when they reached her room, and  
unattended. Angela made herself busy around the room, fluffing pillows,  
airing the blankets, wishing her brother would go away and leave her in  
peace.

"You don't have to keep avoiding me," he said somberly.

"I'm not avoiding you," she responded in a low voice, mindful of  
Katharine's presence. "I'm just busy."

"You're making yourself busy, you mean. You've taken on more than  
your share of watching over the Princess. Only the Guardian is in here  
more."

"Maybe if some people would actually take a turn, I wouldn't be," she  
said, and regretted it. That made her time here seem like a chore, and it  
wasn't. Even during Katharine's less lucid times, she was a comfort, a  
mother she could accept and love without fear.

He took her arm as she refolded a quilt that really didn't need it.  
"What are you not telling me, Angela? There used to be a time when you  
could tell me anything."

She sighed. He was right. Once upon a time, when she had been  
much younger, she had shared every secret of her heart with him, not even  
considering holding back. He'd been her best friend, and she owed him  
some explanation.

"Out in the World. I've met someone. One of the old clan."

"Ah," he said, and sat down in the chair by Katharine's bed. "I see."

She doubted that. She touched her belly. "I'm carrying an egg."

Emotions played over his face, more pain than anger, and she ached  
for hurting him, knowing that for him, only a month had passed since  
she'd left their home, and that before Oberon's return, before Goliath,  
before the Archmage, before everything, he had meant the most to her of  
all the clan.

"How could you?" he asked of her.

"I knew you'd be upset."

"I'm not upset." The lie was easy to read on his beloved face. "I'm  
concerned. What do you know about him?"

"Everything I need to know. He's kind, and he's sweet, and he loves  
me. And I love him."

"But ... "

"Don't get this way. Please. I wanted to tell you as soon as I was  
certain, but time got away from me."

"You're too young."

"Half our sisters already had mates when I left. Marc Antony and  
Julius have been mates for five years. Why should I be any different?"

He said nothing. He knew as she did that many of the others were  
carrying, and it was only a strange chancing of events that kept him from  
being the father of her egg.

Angela turned towards the Princess, saw that she was awake, just as  
her eyes flicked past them to the door.

The Guardian came in, nodded to them, and took her hand. She pulled  
it away again.

"An' who might ye be?" Katharine demanded. Angela could not help  
but stare. The woman spent more and more time not knowing the people  
around her, but it was a painful shock each time.

"Who would you have me be?" Tom asked her. She squinted at him.

"Wheezer?" she ventured, then scowled.

"If that's who you think I am, then that's who I am." Angela read the  
pain in his face, placed a comforting hand against her foster father's back.

"Father will no' think kindly on ye if he finds ye've been in my  
bedchamber. Now go!" She waved him away, and reluctantly, he walked  
out of the room, with a glance to the other two. "All of ye, scat!" She  
shooed them out, and lay back against her pillows as they closed the door.

The Guardian rested against the wall. "I'll go back in after a moment.  
You two head off now. Have some breakfast."

"All right," said Angela, and grieving, she walked with her rookery  
brother back towards the courtyard and left Tom to deal with his dying  
wife.

VVVVV

"So," said Brooklyn, coming back from where he'd been talking with  
Goliath. He put on a grin, clapped his hands together and said, "Let's do  
something fun!"

"Like what?" asked Lex.

Broadway ignored them both. A year, and she was still gone. A year,  
and not a word. She could have forgotten him. She could have ...

"Yo, Broad," said Brooklyn, in a fake accent reminiscent of the  
borough from which he'd taken his name. "What do you wanna do?"

"I dunno."

"Breakfast," suggested Lex.

"Okay." Despondently, he followed his brothers down to the kitchens,  
where he should be working as the evening chef. He hadn't been in the  
mood for a few weeks. Not even cooking sounded like much fun.

"What're you in the mood for?" asked Brooklyn, his jovial mood  
jangling.

"Oooo. What about waffles?" asked Lex, pulling out the iron.  
Broadway looked at the waffle iron, felt the sadness crest over him.  
Angela loved waffles.

"I don't think I'm very hungry," he said, and sat heavily on one of the  
chairs.

"You had to say 'waffles,'" hissed Brooklyn.

"Sorry. He normally likes waffles."

"Okay, okay. Breakfast is a wash. Why don't we go watch t.v.?"

"You go," said Broadway. "I'll stay here."

"We could play a game," suggested Lexington. "We never did finish  
the 'Clue' marathon."

"We could go see a movie," said Brooklyn. "'The Little Mermaid' is  
still showing downtown."

"We have it on video."

Lexington sighed and pulled up a chair beside him. "Broadway, we  
miss her too. But you've got to get out of this."

"I know," he said miserably. "But then I think of how pretty she is  
when she smiles, or I go to make something she likes to eat, and it just ... "  
He hadn't been able to stop thinking about her for days. "I just miss her so  
much."

"Yeah," said Brooklyn, pulling up another chair and a bag of potato  
chips. "Us, too."

VVVVV

Bronx had watched at the parapet until Goliath and Hudson were out  
of sight. Then he'd scratched himself, peed against the wall, and was  
currently occupied by rolling around on his back in a patch of brown,  
scratchy grass in an attempt to get at an itchy spot his teeth and tongue just  
couldn't reach.

So it was that he lay prone unto the sky when the Lady stepped down  
from nowhere onto the tower. She set one perfect foot onto the stones, and  
a thrill ran up his spine. He flipped back onto his feet and panted, awaiting  
her command.

"Good boy," she said, and scratched his ears. This he knew, and her  
scent, layered like puddles of apple blossoms and pine needles and amber.  
She shimmered into another form, but his nose knew her all the same.

"Downstairs."

Bronx turned, stuck his stub of a tail smartly into the air, and led  
Titania into the castle below.

VVVVV  
Interlude  
VVVVV

They sensed it. Magics, like those which had forged them so long before,  
if time meant anything to them, were nearing the one, and opening a  
pathway towards that one.

They, and they were the minds and hearts and souls of all that had ever and  
would ever touch them, and so much more, allowed themselves a moment  
of pleasure, of anticipation.

The time was right.

They gathered their energy, focused it on the one, the right one at last.

They burned.

VVVVV

Fox splashed water over Alexander's head and then poured a dollop of  
cold shampoo into her hand. The bathroom was at least snug from the  
steam, as opposed to the normal dank cold the stone walls seemed to  
generate.

"Hello, my dear," said a much too familiar voice behind her. Fox  
turned, the blood draining from her face, the bottle falling to her feet and  
spilling into the bathroom's white shag carpet.

VVVVV

"And she always liked apples," said Lex, taking another potato chip.

"Had to do with Avalon," said Brooklyn. "Island of Apples."

"We know," said Broadway.

Lex hiccupped, and then his eyes focused. "What the ... "

A circle of fire glowed hugely around Brooklyn. His brother had time  
to turn and stumble away from it before the fire sucked him inside. The  
flame burned bright and hot, and was gone as suddenly as it had come.

"Brooklyn!" shouted Lex and Broadway in unison, just as the castle  
alarm sounded.

VVVVV


	2. Chapter 2

VVVVV  
Consequences Part Four: Fire and the Night (2/3)  
a Gargoyles story  
by Merlin Missy  
Copyright 2001, 2005  
PG  
VVVVV

"There's really no need for the alarm," said the woman she'd  
considered her mother, speaking quietly and calmly over the din.

"You are not welcome here," said Fox, knowing the guards would  
arrive any second and having no idea what to tell them.

Footsteps pounded in the corridor, and David and Owen were there,  
both armed. Owen dropped his weapon when he saw who it was, but  
David kept his trained on her mother.

More footsteps were behind them as Owen shut off the alarm.

"We don't need guards," he said, and was then plowed off his feet by a  
flurry of gargoyles.

"Brooklyn," Lex panted. "He ... "

"We have a situation here," said David, and Broadway's head shot  
over to see her mother.

"You!" Lexington scrambled off Owen and growled at her mother.  
"What did you do to him!"

Her mother brushed past Fox, and picked up a sopping Alexander  
from the tub. His lip was trembling, and he looked to start bawling at all  
the clamor.

"How's my boy, then?" Mother cooed.

"Put. Him. Down." said David, thumbing the safety from his gun.

Everything went very quiet.

"David, put that away," said Mother. "You'll hurt someone."

"Sir," said Owen. "If she wanted to abduct Alexander, he would  
already be gone. I don't believe she is a threat."

"Easy for you to say," said Fox, as her husband reluctantly lowered his  
weapon.

"Where's Brooklyn?" demanded Broadway.

Fox blinked. "What happened to Brooklyn?"

"There was a fire in the kitchen, a magical fire," said Lexington. "And  
he was gone." He looked at her mother accusingly.

Mother looked at Owen.

"Phoenix Gate," they said at the same time.

"What did you do?" asked David. "I don't believe in coincidences."

"Nor do I," replied Mother. "But I don't know what happened to him.  
I'm sorry." She turned her attention back to Alex, who grinned and  
wrapped soapy arms around her neck.

There was a noise in the corridor, a noise Fox had heard before, on her  
wedding night, and then more footsteps pounded their way. Brooklyn ran  
into the room, joy on his scarred face as he saw Broadway and Lex. He  
seemed to stop himself from throwing his arms around them, and instead  
looked at Alexander.

"How old is he!"

"What?" asked Fox.

"Not quite eighteen months," replied Owen. "You've been gone about  
two minutes."

"Two minutes ... " said Brooklyn. "This is December 1997?"

Broadway and Lexington nodded.

Brooklyn let out a whoop. "We made it! We made it back!" He  
hugged his rookery brothers for joy, then shouted into the hallway. "Nash,  
Tachi, come meet your uncles!"

"Uncles?" asked Fox, weakly, as a deep blue, beaked gargoyle female,  
perhaps three in human years, dashed into the room and clung to  
Brooklyn's leg. Behind her was a brick-red gargoyle boy in his early teens,  
watching them guardedly. And behind _him_, unable to fit into the  
cramped space, an adult female, the same blue as her daughter.

"Guys, this is my mate, Katana."

Mother said, "May I suggest we retire to the living room?"

VVVVV

Goliath and Hudson touched down on the tower. Hours remained yet  
until morning, but the city had been quiet tonight. The holiday season,  
Goliath had noted, turned even the more hardened criminal hearts towards  
thoughts of family rather than thoughts of avarice and power.

Even Xanatos.

He would never completely trust the human who'd awakened them,  
for Goliath was no fool. Xanatos had lied to them and betrayed them too  
many times. Yet, the man was changing; as every day his son grew, so did  
he.

Goliath had Lexington quietly monitor as many financial transactions  
and acquisitions as he dared, but nothing had been out of the ordinary, no  
gem stones that altered the wearer's outer form, no secret build-up of yet  
another army. Instead, his charitable donations had increased remarkably,  
as had his research funding towards disease prevention and cure. He'd set  
up three large homeless shelters in the city, and staffed them with career  
counselors and day care workers.

At home, when the day's work was finished, he could often be found  
on the floor, playing games with his child like any other father.

Goliath would never trust Xanatos, but against his better judgment, he  
was starting to like him.

So when he reached the living room, and saw Brooklyn, older than he  
should have been, three gargoyles that he did not know, and Titania in her  
human form playing with her grandson on the couch, he resisted his initial  
impulse to grab Xanatos by the throat, slam him against a convenient wall  
and demand an explanation.

"May I ask what is going on?" he rumbled.

"Hello, Goliath," said Titania pleasantly.

"Goliath! Hudson!" Brooklyn smiled with a deep pleasure as he  
clasped Goliath's hand. "You don't know how good it is to see you both  
again."

Hudson looked as confused as Goliath felt. He nodded to Broadway,  
currently making faces at the little blue girl, who laughed at his efforts.  
"Laddie?"

"Phoenix Gate," said five or six voices at the same time.

"Ah, hell," said Hudson.

VVVVV

Once Goliath and Hudson had returned, Fox felt better about leaving  
the new arrivals unescorted. Even when he'd been her enemy, Fox had  
known Goliath could handle just about any situation, and dammit, this  
wasn't one for her to deal with this time.

Her situation still sat on the couch counting piggies with her son.

"Come on," she said to her mother. "Let's leave them to get better  
acquainted."

"Certainly," said Mother, and she scooped the child into her arms.  
Fox noted that she hadn't really stopped touching him since her arrival,  
and her skin itched. As Owen had said, if she meant to take him, he would  
already be gone. What Owen hadn't said was that her intentions might still  
not be benevolent.

When they reached the Great Hall, Fox turned on her. "Why are you  
here?" she demanded.

"I came to see you, of course. And Alexander. I've been away too  
long."

"You should have stayed away."

"You don't mean that."

"Maybe I do." She couldn't help it. Whenever she was with her  
mother, she felt her inner teenager start to grouse.

"Do you remember what I told you the last time we parted?"

Fox nodded. "But I'm not sure I understand it now more than I did  
then."

"Someday, you will, child."

Fox growled. "You _always_ do that! 'You'll understand when  
you're older.' 'I'm four thousand years old, so I know better.' Can't you  
for once just explain something to me like I'm an adult?"

"Fifteen thousand."

"What?"

"I'm fifteen thousand years old, give a few centuries or so."

Fox felt her knees go funny, and she sat in a chair which was a mere  
two hundred years old. "You're telling the truth, aren't you?"

Mother nodded. "It's my new system: tell the truth to the people I  
love. Your father isn't taking it very well, either."

"You went to see Daddy? He's in no condition to ... "

"To put up with his pain of an ex-wife?" Mother laughed. "So you  
would like me to treat you as an adult but your father as a child. I see."

"What did you tell him?"

"That's between us." She turned her attention back to her grandson.

"It's past his bedtime."

"All right." Fox led her back to the nursery, when she watched with  
mixed emotions as her mother changed Alex's diaper and lay him down to  
sleep.

"How many ... How many children have you had?"

Her mother paused. "Four. I've raised a few more than that."

The one time she'd dared ask Owen the same question, he'd given the  
same answer. That didn't mean they both weren't lying. "The three  
weirdos and me?"

"I wish you wouldn't call them that."

"Sorry. Picked it up from Puck."

Her mother smirked. "He does have a certain turn of phrase. And he  
never did get on with the Three."

"May have something to do with them trying to kill him."

"That was long ago."

"That was last _year_, Mom."

Her mother turned. "When?"

"Um. Last Fall. They sent someone with an iron knife. Puck had  
Alex decode the spell or something. It was them."

During her lifetime, she had rarely seen her mother given over to any  
strong emotion, so Fox was taken aback at Mother's startled expression,  
following by a quickly-disguised anger.

"I see," she said through pursed lips. "I will speak with the Puck  
later."

Later? "How long are you staying?"

"I thought I would stay just for the holidays."

"I meant it when I said you weren't welcome here." Did she? Now  
that Mother had come, it seemed so natural for her to be laying the baby  
down for a nap, for her to stay and help out, for her to be there ...

She tasted tin, and stepped a few paces back, holding her head.

"Stop it!" she shouted, disturbing Alex. He moved in his crib, but  
without making a sound. "No more spells." Puck had taught her a basic  
shielding spell months back, barely more than a mental bubble.

She envisioned the bubble now, wrapping her in pink safety. The  
"everything's okay" feeling dissipated. Her mother was here, a virtual  
stranger in her home, comforting her child back to sleep, and it was not at  
all natural.

"How dare you," said Fox, stepping between Mother and Alex,  
pushing the woman away from her baby. "What were you going to do,  
convince me that you should move in?"

"Of course not," said Mother soothingly. "I thought perhaps it would  
be easier for everyone if you felt it was your idea for me to stay. Just for a  
while."

"Why? What do you want?"

"To spend time with you and Alexander."

"We don't want you here. We can't trust you."

"Fox, I swear to you that I have only ever acted in what I thought were  
your best interests."

"What _you_ thought? Again with the 'I'm much older than you so I  
know better' routine. I don't care how old you are, that doesn't give you  
the right to meddle with my mind because you think you should."

"Perhaps not." Mother turned and exited the nursery. Fox stood there  
in the darkened room, then followed her.

"Where are you going?"

"I haven't decided yet. I'll probably take a room downtown. I did tell  
your father I would be around for a few days, and I don't want to lie to  
him."

"Again, you mean." She couldn't help it.

Mother stopped, and slowly faced her. "Fox, my darling darling girl,  
may you never have to know what it is to show your lover your true face  
and have him meet you in return with a mob carrying cold iron."

"Daddy would never have done that to you."

"You gave your doctor a pure iron blade and told her to not let me in  
to see him."

"I couldn't be sure of what you'd do."

"I'm not your enemy. I'm your mother."

"You could be both."

Mother inclined her head. "I'll be going then." She turned away again  
and moved swiftly down the passageway.

"Wait." Fox caught up to her. "Look, it's late. No place will be  
open. You can stay here. For the night. We'll talk." She held up a hand.  
"But no more spells. And you are to tell me about each and every time you  
cast a spell on me or Dad without our noticing it."

Her mother smiled. "Done."

VVVVV

And again, there were flowers.

Pretty flowers, roses with moist dew still touching the petals, gathered  
in crispy green paper, had been placed where she would find them. She  
looked at the card. The closest streetlight yielded just enough light here by  
the carousel for her to make out her own name written in a fine hand.

'Lilah smelled the flowers, pressing her face deep into them until all  
she could see and smell and feel were red petals, like fragrant blood  
washing over her. Reluctantly, she pulled her face away, and plucked a  
single petal from the prettiest one.

Then she threw them into the dumpster beside the doorway, burying  
them deep below newspapers and half-eaten food.

She stuck the petal in a pocket, where she could feel the crushed and  
drying petals she'd taken from the other roses she'd found. She always  
kept one. Just one.

She hurried back inside, down through the passages she knew so well,  
back to the Labyrinth. When she reached the playroom, Boo looked up  
from the book he was reading by kerosene light.

"Hi, 'Lilah." He set his book down carefully so that Maggie wouldn't  
yell. "You okay?"

She nodded. He cocked his head and moved his hand in a gesture that  
asked if she was sure. She signed back at him that she was fine, but she  
knew he could read the guilt in the way she carried herself, and she turned  
away.

Her brother took her hand and plunked them both down on the cold  
floor. "What's wrong?"

Her lip trembled. She'd been so happy when the notes had started.  
They were simple, just said things like "You're pretty." She liked that.  
When the first one had told her to go look in a nearby place up top for  
something special, she'd been afraid for a long time, but eventually, she'd  
been curious enough to go look, and there'd been ever-so-slightly wilted  
flowers.

And she'd been scared, and she'd thrown away the flowers and the  
notes, because she knew Maggie and Talon would be mad, without having  
to asking why they were mad.

And she got more scared every time she went, thinking she'd get  
caught, and knowing that it was worth it, for the good feeling she got in  
her belly whenever she saw the flowers or the notes.

And now Boo wanted to know what was wrong, and she couldn't tell  
him.

She made fists, and then started moving her hands to make shapes for  
words she didn't know how to say, about wanting something that she  
couldn't put a name to, and knowing it might not be right, and wanting it  
desperately anyway.

Malibu watched her without speaking, without moving. Then he  
wrapped his arms and wings around her and just hugged her, as she started  
to cry.

When she was okay again, he asked her, "Can you tell me what it is?"

She shook her head.

"Okay." He took her hands in both of his. "Okay. No matter what,  
it's okay. Okay?"

"Okay."

But it wasn't okay. Because she knew who was giving her flowers,  
who was finding a way into the Labyrinth and leaving her notes where no  
one else would find them, by his own hand or by those of a paid spy. Who  
could be watching her even now. And as long as she didn't tell anyone, as  
long as she didn't let on that she knew, as long as she took the notes and  
the flowers and was good, Master Thailog wouldn't hurt anybody.

VVVVV

"I thought you destroyed that thing," said Elisa, still recovering from  
the bone-crushing hug Brooklyn had given her. She was freaking out, just  
a little. As far as she was concerned, she'd seen him the night before, and  
here he was in the living room, obviously a lot older than he had a right to  
be, thinking he hadn't seen her for forty years. And they were both right.

"I did not destroy it," said Goliath. "I allowed it to go free in the  
timestream so that it could not be used for evil purposes."

"About that," said Brooklyn, a frown on his face. "Thanks a lot."

"Hear hear," said Owen softly, passing by in the hall. She snickered,  
then turned to be properly introduced to Brooklyn's mate.

"It is good to meet you," said Katana, as she shook Elisa's hand  
gravely.

"Hey, likewise."

Elisa still had difficulty knowing exactly what was considered  
beautiful by gargoyle standards, was coming to the realization that, like  
human standards, they were probably individual to the person looking. For  
herself, she thought Katana rather plain: short blue-black hair set off from  
her midnight blue forehead by two nubs of horn at either brow, a simple  
slash of mouth, and a slim body more suited for fighting than fashion  
modeling. She was a far distance from Angela, whom Elisa considered  
pretty even by human standards.

Brooklyn took Katana's hand in his, clasped his fingers through hers,  
and on his face, Elisa saw that there was no one more beautiful to him.

"I'm glad you called me," she said to Goliath. "I wouldn't have  
wanted to miss this for anything." His hand slid up her back to rest just  
below her shoulders, but he said nothing.

"Well," said the boy, whose name was Nashville. "This has been  
really nice. I'm glad we had the chance to meet your clan, Dad. So when  
are we going?"

Brooklyn and his mate shared a glance. "We're not going anywhere,  
Nash. This is our home. We're going to stay here."

"We're what?" asked the boy in shock.

Goliath stiffened. Dawn had come, and the living room was filled  
with statues.

"My favorite way to end an argument," said Elisa.

Goliath's hand remain as it was, palm facing out, and she placed her  
own against it. "See you later, big guy."

She went to let herself out, when she heard someone talking in the  
kitchen. She didn't care to pry, but something sounded terribly familiar.  
She paused by the doorway, entranced by the scent of hazelnut coffee and  
the unmistakable timbre of Anastasia Renard's voice.

" ... and then he changed into a rabbit and bounced away." Fox  
laughed as her mother chuckled, and Elisa was sure she'd missed  
something. She debated going into the room and saying hello, but she  
didn't want to intrude.

"Oh, speaking of rabbits, I found the cutest stuffed rabbits," Fox was  
saying. "I'll show you, later. A blue one for Alex, and a pink one for  
Jasmine. You'll just die."

Nerves shot like pale electricity through her body, as her stomach  
clenched. Anastasia asked about the girl, and Fox told her how she'd just  
gotten pictures from the grandmother, then explained why she was sending  
gifts to the child of someone she had never really liked. Elisa couldn't  
move, could barely breathe.

It wasn't fair.

Jasmine was doing fine. Was crawling. Was sitting up for pictures.  
Was showing reasonable progress for a ten month old child. Was going to  
open present after present on Christmas sent by someone trying to make  
herself feel better for her part in turning the child's mother into a cyborg  
felon. Would have a birthday, and would go to college on the Xanatos  
Enterprises tab, and would have a future. Did not thus far show one flaw  
in mind or body for all that she was quite likely the product of a union  
Elisa did not even want to consider.

Jasmine was peachy and Daniel was dying. Sweet, perfect little boy,  
his only mistake was being born to people who'd made bad deals with the  
husband of the woman who now told her own mother about little dresses  
and shoes she hadn't been able to resist buying.

She wanted to scream, and knew that she couldn't, that Maggie and  
Derek deserved the chance to scream, and that they didn't even have that,  
that they spent their days sleeping lightly, listening forever for their son to  
stop breathing again.

Elisa wrenched herself away from the kitchen, away from the things  
she couldn't change. Numb, she wandered towards the elevator, towards  
her car, towards her bed.

She almost walked straight into Owen, going about his endless  
service.

"Detective," he said in both greeting and parting.

The night had been late, and her nerves were raw, and she was giddy  
and aching and brave.

"You."

"I?"

"You owe me a favor. You said, you said you owed me."

"Yes." He waited, patiently.

"I need you to help me." She paused. "Please."

VVVVV  
Interlude  
VVVVV

"I don't think this is a good idea," said Horus, and his wasn't the only  
voice around the table with that same opinion.

"Have you got a better one?" spat back Ophelia, as she jumped to her  
feet.

Angela murmured, "Down, sister."

"This is your doing," said Horus, turning on her. "No one would have  
such a daft idea if you hadna gone off to see the World."

"We're not casting blame for the idea," said Gabriel, shooting a  
warning glance to Horus and Ophelia, who looked to be coming to blows.  
"We're considering its feasibility."

"I don't see a need," said Ariadne. "We can lay our eggs here. They'd  
be safe from all danger in a rookery on Avalon."

"But they'll take centuries to hatch," said Julius, and Marc Antony  
was beside him in silent assent.

"Ten years," said Dido. "Ten years wherever they go."

"But ten on Avalon is two hundred and forty in the World," reminded  
Angela. "We know that."

"And?" demanded Horus. "What care have we for the World? We  
were born and raised _here_."

"But there are gargoyles out there," Angela said. "Our clan, other  
clans. I've met them. If we wait two hundred and forty years, we and our  
hatchlings may be the only ones left anywhere."

"Better that we live," said Ariadne, "and not be killed by foolishness."

"Better that we _all_ live," said Ophelia. "And 'all' means all  
gargoyles. We are so few. Our eggs could make the difference for the  
survival of our kind."

"And it could be the death of our children," said Michael.

"Enough," said Gabriel, and he stood. "Guardian, you have been to  
the World. You have seen the clan of our parents. Do you think our  
children could live there in safety?"

The Guardian looked away from him. He was tired. Angela couldn't  
remember the last time he'd slept. "I have seen the World, aye, and the  
clan, both recently and before any of you were hatched." His eyes  
narrowed when he looked at Horus. "They are your family, as much as we  
have been, and they sacrificed much that all of ye could even be born.  
They are your clan.

"Angela's right. The World has few enough gargoyles left in it, and  
no, it isna a safe place for them with wings. But if there are ever to be  
gargoyles flying the night skies again, ya need to take this chance. Your  
bairns will be safe with Goliath, and they will be mothers and fathers to a  
new generation while ye are still barely more than children. You owe your  
clan that chance."

He got up from his seat. "Ye know where I'll be," he said, and left the  
chamber.

Angela sat back in her own chair. The discussion would continue, but  
it had already been decided. The Guardian thought they should go, lay  
their eggs in the World, and allow them to hatch there. It would be so  
done.

As the debate rose again in volume, she tried to catch Gabriel's eye,  
but he would not look at her. He looked instead at the Guardian's empty  
wooden chair, and the two empty chairs beside it.

VVVVV

She'd brought a deck of cards with her. Halcyon looked up from the  
endless paperwork that Preston brought him, and there she was in the  
green chair, shuffling with nimble fingers.

"You shouldn't be slipping past the guard. It isn't nice."

"I didn't slip. Fox took me off the Most Wanted list this morning.  
How are you feeling?"

"Annoyed." His eyes kept going back to her hands, and the cards  
flying between them. "Are those tarot cards?"

She nodded. "I like the artwork on these."

"You would."

"So. I gave you time to think."

"I can't forgive you, if that's what you want."

"I didn't come looking for forgiveness. That's a mortal concept. My  
kind don't forgive. We just go on."

"And you expect me to think you're better than us?"

"I never said such a thing." Flip. Turn. Walk the cards over her  
knuckles. He heard the hum as they slapped into each other again and  
again.

"But you think it. Because you're older and wiser than us poor  
younger races."

She continued shuffling. "We're not wiser. In many ways, we're  
more foolish, because we have no need to grow or evolve."

"I didn't expect you to say that." Had she ever done anything entirely  
within his expectations?

"Like you said, I'm old. I may not be wise, but I'm observant."

He was getting dizzy watching her, or maybe that was from the lack of  
sleep; Dr. Howard had made him stay awake the night before his MRI, and  
Janine and Preston had been by afterwards. "I have too many questions,"  
he muttered. "And I can't say that I really want you here to answer them."

"Then don't ask," she said, and began laying cards face down,  
counting out seven for him, seven for herself. The rest she place in a loose  
pile on the tray attached to his bedside.

"I don't believe in divination," he said, staring at the backs of the  
cards. There was a quarter moon on each, and he could not tell if it was  
waxing or waning.

"I never said you should. Now pick up your cards." He reached out,  
took them. Seductively-clad young nymphs and stoic knights stared back  
at him, holding cups, spears, other less recognizable things. "Do you have  
a nine?"

He looked at the cards. A nymph held three shafts of fire in four arms,  
and a sea creature scooped three golden goblets into suckered tentacles .  
He plucked them out, lay them before him on the bedspread, and then told  
her, "Go fish."

VVVVV

There was a soft _whoomp_ from the balcony, followed by three clear  
taps on her window.

"Come in!"

Derek let himself in, awkwardly moving Daniel to his other arm as he  
did the latch behind him. Elisa hurried over and took her nephew from  
him. The baby moved, then settled back to his normal listless state. Elisa  
hoped this would work.

"How's my favorite boy, then?" she cooed.

"I left Maggie a note saying I'd be here. She's still going to kill me  
when I go back."

"Let's hope we've got good news for her when you do."

"So. Who is this mysterious person? Geneticist? Doctor?"

"Neither," said Owen, as he walked into view from the kitchen. Derek  
took a step back, narrowed his eyes, and growled.

"What the hell is this!"

"Derek ... "

Her brother grabbed his son from her arms. "I told you, I don't want  
Xanatos involved!"

"I assure you, Talon, that Mr. Xanatos has no idea I'm here."

"He's not working for Xanatos on this one," Elisa said. "He's on our  
side."

"I doubt that."

"Believe what you will," said Owen. "I am here at your sister's  
request. If you would prefer me to leave, I shall."

"Like hell," said Elisa. "Derek, listen. Owen's here to help. He owes  
me a favor."

"We don't need any favors from him."

"So help me," she replied, trying to combat the thickness in her throat,  
"If you let Daniel die because you're too proud to accept help from  
someone you don't like, I swear I'll ... I'll ..." She stopped.

"How can he possibly help Daniel?"

"I have abilities which are not readily apparent," said Owen.

Elisa caught his eye. He nodded, however slightly. "Owen's a fairy,"  
she told her brother.

Derek turned back to Owen, cleared his throat, and then back to his  
sister: "Um. Okay. So what?"

"What do you mean 'So what?'"

"I used to work for Xanatos, too. I read the whole non-discrimination  
clause. I can't say I'm really surprised, but how does this help?"

"Oh. No. Fairy. Oberon's Children? Magic? You know, that whole  
Avalon thing?"

"Oh!" Comprehension dawned over his face. A shiver echoed  
through the air, and Puck stood behind Derek, tapping him on the shoulder.  
Derek turned, and then almost stumbled, clutching Daniel protectively.

"Derek, meet Puck."

"Um. Hi."

Puck rolled his eyes, and tugged Daniel from Derek's unresisting grip.  
"Gimme."

He closed his eyes and crossed his legs beneath himself, floating  
nonchalantly on a three-foot cushion of air. His index finger touched  
Daniel's nose, then his forehead, but neither he nor the baby opened their  
eyes for what seemed an age.

"What's going on?" whispered Derek.

"Something good, I hope."

Puck opened his eyes again, and surprisingly, so did Daniel. Puck  
stuck out his tongue and made a face, and Daniel's split upper lip creased  
open in a smile. Gingerly, the fay handed Derek his son, and shimmered  
into Owen's form.

"Take him home. Make his warm, and comfortable, and happy.  
There will be little enough time for it."

Elisa stumbled back against her armchair, gripped it, as Derek's mouth  
fell open.

"But ... "

"There is nothing I can do. I'm sorry." Genuine grief tinged his  
voice.

"Do you know what's wrong with him?" asked Derek, his own voice  
gone dead.

Owen shrugged. "I can speculate. When your genetic structure was  
modified, along with that of the other Mutates, there was no data available  
on how the alterations would affect your offspring. Additionally, the genes  
which went into your creation differed from those which went into Ms.  
Reed's. Cross-species breeding always has unforeseen consequences."

Derek nodded; this was the same explanation they had come up with  
at Daniel's birth. Owen was only reconfirming their theories.

"So. My son will die. His is going to grow up in a castle." Owen had  
the decency to look embarrassed.

"No," said Elisa, suddenly.

"'No' to what?"

"No," she said again, heart racing in her chest. "You can do  
something," she said to Owen.

"I cannot."

"The find someone who can. Anyone. One of your kind. You've all  
got powers, surely someone has the ability to make one little boy better."

"No. There is no one. Had he merely been ill, yes, I could probably  
ask one of the others, assuming none of them have been ordered to kill me  
on sight. He is not ill. He is dying. There is a dark cloud surrounding  
him, and before the turn of the year, it will choke out his life, and that's all  
there is."

His voice had not raised once, but Elisa could hear the emotion  
begging to be let free. There was a strong aspect of the Puck that loved  
little children desperately, and as much as she wanted to hate him for not  
helping her, she knew without asking that it hurt him almost as badly to be  
telling her so.

"All right," she said. "All right. Thanks. Thanks for trying. Forgive  
me if I don't see you out." He nodded, and went to the coat rack to  
retrieve his overcoat. Elisa placed her arms around Derek from behind,  
something only a little more awkward now than before, because of his  
wings. She felt him shaking, but knew he would not break until Owen was  
gone.

"I am sorry," said Owen again, and he was gone.

"Damn," said Elisa, softly. "I thought it would work. I really did."

Derek said nothing to her, whispered things she could not hear to his  
motionless son.

VVVVV

Owen held up his good hand to a passing taxi, which sped by him  
unseeing. He'd had such high hopes at the beginning of this. He'd  
assumed the child had merely been ill, perhaps a touch of pneumonia.  
Even without his powers, he'd have been able to see what was wrong,  
perhaps use it as an excuse to measure Alexander's healing potential.  
Instead, he had seen only darkness, and an empty cradle. Death in one of  
His many forms would come soon to visit and take his due. Nothing could  
prevent that.

No one could ...

He frowned, and stood oblivious as another cab passed by. No one  
could cheat Death, but so many tried. In his entire experience, no one had  
ever succeeded, although, now that he considered it, anyone who _had_  
succeeded would be awfully quiet about it, if they had any intelligence.

There were always rumors: Utnapishtim, Lazarus, other so-called  
immortals. He had yet to meet anyone who was truly immortal, not merely  
long-lived, as his own species was, but he didn't want immortality for the  
Mutate child, merely an extension on a too-short life.

Death had been known to grant extensions, once or twice.

The third taxi slowed to a stop before him, and he got inside.

"Where to?"

"Central Park West," he said, hoping this would work.

VVVVV

"What do you mean, we're not going back?" Bits of stone skin  
littered the living room carpet.

Brooklyn pinched between his eyes, pushing back the headache that  
threatened every time he talked to his son. "This is our home now. This is  
the place we've been trying to reach, that _I've_ been trying to reach for  
the past forty years."

"Great for you. What about the rest of us?"

"I have been looking forward to coming here since your father first  
spoke of it," said Katana. "He is right, this is our home now."

"It's not that bad," piped up Broadway. "We were kind of upset when  
we ended up here, too, but this time is really fun."

"Fun," said Nash, scowling. "Hover bikes haven't been invented yet."  
He looked at Brooklyn again. "Did you know HRV won't exist for  
another fifty years?"

"What's that?" asked Lex.

"Something that hasn't been invented," said Brooklyn quickly, and  
reminded Nashville: "We need to talk about what we do and don't mention  
to people. No future references."

"We do not want to disrupt the timestream," said Katana.

"This time sucks," said Nash, and he grabbed Tachi from the floor,  
where she and Alex were rolling a large ball back and forth between them.

"Lemme go!" said Tachi.

"Do you really want to raise her here? This place is primitive. She  
could catch anything. You want to settle down in a time, fine. Make it  
one where she'll be able to grow up healthy."

"She'll be fine," said Brooklyn, losing his twin battles with his  
headache and his temper, and snatched Tachi back from Nash. He pinched  
her arm as he did; tears started welling in her eyes, and her beak trembled.  
"I'm sorry, honey."

"Mama!" she called, and Katana took her, wrapping her wings around  
her daughter protectively.

"Shhhh. That's a good girl. Why don't you and I and Alex go to the  
kitchen to find something to eat?"

"Okay," said Tachi. Katana reached down a hand, and led Alex out of  
the room.

"It really isna so bad here, laddie," said Hudson.

"Yes it is," sniffed Nash. "Besides, I've heard music from the 1990's.  
It sucks eggs."

"Watch it," said Brooklyn.

Lexington asked, "What music do _you_ like?"

Nash shrugged. "I dunno. Music."

Brooklyn said, "What about that one band? The ones we met in San  
Francisco a few jumps back. You liked them."

"The Warlocks," said Nash. "But that was over thirty years ago.  
They're long gone by now."

"I'll bet there are still some cd's or something around," said Lex  
kindly. "Let me look." He went off, no doubt in search of his laptop. By  
the dragon, how Brooklyn had missed seeing Lex at his computer.  
Nostalgia bit him, hard.

Hudson caught Broadway's eye, and gestured. The two of them went  
after him, and Goliath followed silently, leaving Brooklyn alone with his  
son.

"It doesn't matter," said Nash.

"Look," said Brooklyn, "I know this is going to be tough on you for a  
while. But we need to stay. This is my home."

"It's not mine."

"It could be, if you'd give it a chance."

Nash folded his arms and hunched his shoulders in a familiar way as  
he stalked out towards the towers. Brooklyn watched him go, then let out  
a deep sigh and went for some aspirin.

VVVVV

Owen steeled himself against the voices in the Chamber of the Winds.  
He knew their wiles, knew of the sweetness they offered, like siren-call:  
enticing and deadly. He had no time for their words, their half-heard  
whispers. Instead, he made his way directly to her chamber, and let  
himself inside.

"Narcissa?"

There was no answer. A brief search ascertained that she was absent,  
although not for long; one of her many potions simmered on an unattended  
fire, and she would surely return before it boiled dry. He made himself  
comfortable on a much-repaired cane chair, and waited.

Twenty minutes later, he began to doubt his initial thought. Perhaps  
she had been called away for something important and forgotten the  
potion. Perhaps she had fallen and injured herself. Perhaps ...

"What do you want, Trickster?" Narcissa demanded as she entered her  
chamber.

"A pleasure, as always, to see you as well," he said, rising to his feet  
smoothly.

"You're early. And you haven't brought me anything."

"I know about your arrangement with Anubis."

She drew back, eyes wide, then appraising. "And how would you be  
knowing about that?"

"I guessed. But apparently, I guessed correctly."

"That you did. What of it?"

"There is a child. He is dying."

"Yours?"

"No. I owe his aunt a favor."

"Repay your favor yourself. I have no need to be dealing with your  
affairs."

"I helped you and yours travel from Avalon to the World without  
being killed, when there were many of our kind that would have gladly  
seen you dead."

"Oberon would not have allowed that. Against his law, you know."

"He would have allowed it. I protected you."

"That you did, and that you do. I still don't see why I should help  
you."

"Because this child is special. Give me your thoughts." He held out  
his hand. Reluctantly, she took it.

Mind spoke to mind, and he showed her the aura he'd read from the  
Maza child, the dark mists that covered him, showed her too the other  
thing he had seen, the path so ghostly pale it could barely be seen, a path  
along which the child might live.

When they broke free, Narcissa stared up at him. "Give me time to  
consider it."

"There isn't much time left."

"I know." She paused. "He looks ... "

"Yes. He favors his mother, hence the name."

"That was not my meaning, and you know it."

Owen dropped his eyes. He knew her meaning; Daniel bore a  
remarkable resemblance to another baby they had both known once upon a  
time, a boy who now wandered these same Tunnels as eternal protector  
and prisoner.

"He's had another child," she said. "If this winged boy of yours ... "

"Not mine."

She waved her hand. "If this winged boy looks as you have shown  
me, he could be Micah's twin."

"But the first two children were human! Looked human," he amended  
at her glance. "At least, from what you told me."

"They do. This one is going to be like his father. You can thank your  
Master for that."

"You know he is no longer my Master."

"What I know," said Narcissa, "Is much. You may protest each day  
for a thousand years that you have left his service, and that human whose  
boots you lick today will probably believe you every time. But I can read  
your heart, my dear little Puck, and I know as you do that should Oberon  
whistle, you would scamper to his side without a backward glance."

Angered words flew to his mouth, but before they could escape, she  
placed her wrinkled hand against his stone wrist. "As I would return to my  
Lady's feet should she call to me, her slippers in my mouth. You and I are  
lucky among our kind. We already know our place, even when we have  
been banished from it."

"I do not serve him," said Owen, but he heard the uncertainty clear in  
his own words. More clearly, he said, "The Queen is here, in the city. She  
has come to seek a reckoning with her mortal family. I will give her your  
regards."

She tilted her head. "I will send you my answer in two days. Go  
safely, Trickster." He nodded, knowing there would be no more  
discussion, and left her firelit chamber.

As he passed through the Chamber of the Winds, he again heard the  
voices calling to him: _Go back to him, little fairy._ _Go home go home  
go home._ _Go back home to die ... _

He closed his ears to the sounds, and hurried onwards into the night.

VVVVV


	3. Chapter 3

VVVVV  
Consequences Part Four: Fire and the Night (3/3)  
a Gargoyles story  
by Merlin Missy  
Copyright 2001, 2005  
PG  
VVVVV

Brooklyn passed through the kitchen on his way back from the  
lavatory. Katana had finished giving Tachi and Alex their snack, and was  
wiping the little faces and hands clean of whatever sticky mess they'd  
consumed.

"An' then," his daughter said to the little boy, "we can go get the toys  
an' the blankets, an' I'll be the mommy an' you can be the little kid, and  
I'll read bedtime to you an' you can pretend to sleep."

"'Kay."

"An' then you can pretend to wake up, and I'll make breakfast, an'  
you'll go to school an' I'll go hunt evil an' you can skip school and try an'  
help me."

"'Kay." So decided, the pair joined hands and Tachi dragged Alex  
past Brooklyn and off towards the playroom.

Brooklyn smiled despite his waning headache. "At least she's  
adjusting well."

"She always does." Katana wiped down the table with a cloth, then  
went to one of the industrial-sized steel sinks to rinse it.

He came up behind her, placed his hands against her back between her  
wings. "How about you?"

"I am adjusting." He hadn't been her mate for this long without  
knowing the many climates in her voice.

"But not well."

"No."

He nudged her with his talon-tips until she turned around, and he took  
her hands in his. "Tell me."

"This is not my home. This is not truly your home."

"I was hatched beneath this castle."

"Across an ocean, a thousand years before this time! You spent only  
four years of your life in this era. You are as much a stranger to this place  
as we. Yet this is where you have spoken of every night since the hour we  
met."

"I know. But this _is_ my home, my love. This is my clan."

"And we are your family." She looked away; Brooklyn did not have  
to ask what she was thinking. He remembered too well the volcanic  
eruption which had wiped out her own family and almost killed the two of  
them as well.

"Give me the word, 'Tana. If you want to go, we'll grab the kids and  
dance the next Flame outta here. Just tell me so."

She paused, for such a long time that he was certain that she would say  
go, that she would ask him to give up his home again, for her, and that he  
would do it for her sake.

"No."

"'No' what?"

"No, we are not going. Wherever you go, I am already there. Your  
heart is mine, but your soul lives here. I knew that years ago. Even if we  
left, part of you would remain here always, and I could not bear to be away  
from that piece of you. So we will stay, here in this time."

He drew her into an embrace. "You know how much I love you at this  
moment, right?"

He felt her smile against his neck. "Yes."

VVVVV

Light spilled golden from her apartment to the balcony, and his heart  
warmed as he approached. The light dimmed momentarily, and Talon  
emerged from the window, a small bundle snug in his arms. That was odd;  
Talon rarely came to see Elisa, and certainly not with Daniel. Although  
the weather had been mild, even the threat of chill kept the baby inside and  
safe.

"Talon," he said neutrally as he came to a soft landing.

"Goliath." The Mutate's tone was distant. " I didn't know I'd been  
here so long." Goliath chose not to inquire why he had been there at all.

Elisa poked her head out, "Shouldn't you be ... Oh, hi Goliath." If  
Talon's voice had been distant, Elisa's was in a far region of space where  
even Nokkar's people did not go.

"I could return later," he said, looking from sister to brother and back.

"No, come on in," she said. "Derek, I'll ... I'll see you around."

"Yeah," said Talon. "Bye, sis. Bye, Goliath." He knelt, then thrust  
from the building with both legs, and glided off into the night.

"Elisa," said Goliath, following her back inside, "Is everything all  
right?" Here in the light, he could see her face more clearly, could tell she  
had been crying, and he hurt for her. He led her to the couch, sat down  
with less than total comfort beside her.

"How can I help?"

She brushed at her eyes. "You can't." She flinched as she added,  
"Nobody can."

She had to be speaking of the child. "You are certain?"

"I am now." Something in her changed, readjusted. She put on a  
smile and asked, "So how is everyone back at the castle? You got here  
awful quick after sunset."

"I chose to let Brooklyn handle the situation. I am not sure where his  
new family fits into our clan, and I believe Nashville is more likely to  
listen to his father than to the rest of us."

She blinked at him. "Have you ever been around a teenager before?"

"Teenager?" He had heard the word before, but remained baffled.  
"Nashville is twenty-six."

"And right at the age where girls start being interesting and parents  
start being stupid. The last person he's going to listen to right now is  
Brooklyn."

VVVVV

"Nashville?" Lexington's voice wavered in the thin air. Nash  
shrugged his wings closer around himself, staring out from the ledge  
towards the clouds below him. He could just make out the orange glow of  
the city lights beneath their fluffy covering.

"What? Time to churn our own butter now? Oooo. Fun."

"I just wanted to let you know, I found that band you mentioned.  
Took a while; they changed their name."

"Whatever. Thanks." He flicked a pebble off into space.

"You shouldn't do that. You could hurt someone."

"I know."

Lex was right behind him now. He could see puffs of breath in the air,  
but he kept his back turned.

"Sucks, huh?" asked Lex.

"What?"

"Getting picked up from a place you like, winding up in another time  
that you don't know and could care less about."

He said nothing.

"I've been there, done that. When we woke up here ... " He broke off.  
"Your father was the first to really adapt. Some days, I don't think I ever  
will."

"But everyone expects me to."

"No. We expect you to try."

Nash flicked another pebble. "Whatever."

"_Not_ whatever. You're gonna have to choose. Do you want to be a  
part of the clan, or do you want to sulk up here by yourself the rest of your  
life?"

"I could find the Gate," he said. He had touched it, once, as they were  
about to dance. He could still recall the tingle, like cold fire skittering  
down his arm, and the power of being anyone, going anywhere. For an  
instant, he had tasted what it was to be one of Oberon's unholy little  
bastards, and he'd wanted it. In the next moment, it had slipped away, to  
remain forever beyond his grasp.

"You'd leave your family?"

"Sure."

Lex snorted. "Must be nice." He rested his arms on the battlement,  
and looked into the clouds below.

"What?"

"To not have to give a damn. I'd give anything for that."

Nash said, "I hate this place. The music sucks. Humans hate us. And  
there are no girls."

"There are girls."

"Angela's on Avalon. Demona's psycho. Tachi's my sister. And  
Delilah's ... "

" ... a kid," finished Lex. "Yeah. I know." He sighed, and started  
fidgeting with another pebble.

"This time sucks," said Nash.

Lex paused. "Yeah."

"So," Nash said after a long time. "The Warlocks changed their  
name?"

Lex nodded. "Yeah. About that. I've got some good news and some  
bad news."

VVVVV

Harvey smiled and waved welcome at Fox when he saw her at the end  
of the hospital corridor. This had to be the third or fourth time she'd been  
by to visit her old man since Harvey'd started working guard duty here.

For a boss, she wasn't half bad. She'd hired him for the show, dressed  
as an Evil Ninja, but hey, it was more exposure than he'd ever seen in the  
local theatre scene. After production went down, she'd tossed him a few  
jobs, even though she'd been in stir. When the rest of the cast broke out,  
she'd stayed, which Harvey thought was pretty classy.

After she moved in with Mr. Moneybags, Fox had asked him to be an  
occasional bodyguard and odd-job man for a lot more than he was getting  
as an actor. Nothing illegal Harvey's little boy lived with his ex, but he  
was young enough to think Harvey was a hero. Harvey never wanted that  
to change.

He stood as she got there.

"Hey, Harvey."

"Ma'am," he said. He still thought of her as the same chick in  
spandex he'd always known, but he'd been raised knowing that there were  
two kinds of people in this world: those who got paychecks, and those who  
signed them.

"How's he doing?"

Harvey scratched the back of his neck. "Doc says he's doing fine." A  
hearty chuckle gushed from Mr. Renard's room.

"He sounds like it."

Harvey debated telling her what he'd seen, that Mr. R. was always in a  
better mood when Mrs. R. was around, and for that matter, so was Harvey.  
Seemed that every time she came by, and it had been a lot in the past  
couple days, Harvey felt like the sunshine man. When she smiled his way,  
it was the best damned feeling, like when his boy smiled at him.

The first time Mrs. R. had been there, he'd felt so good she'd told him  
to go off and make someone's day brighter. Harvey'd marched right down  
to the gift shop, bought all the balloons, and taken 'em to the kids' ward.

The nurses wouldn't let him on the kids' ward anymore, which was a  
real shame.

When Fox opened the door, she scowled, and Harvey's good mood  
started crumbling. He remembered that look, and how it usually meant  
someone was in for a real ass-kicking instead of the play fighting they'd  
done on the show. One time during practice, Wolf had said something,  
Harvey didn't know what, and the next thing he knew, Dingo and Jackal  
had been dragging Fox off him. Wolf had walked funny for days after, and  
none of them dared laugh, 'cause it could have been them.

"I didn't know you were here," said Fox to her mom.

"Your father and I were just talking," said Mrs. R.

Mr. R. said, "Come in, Janine." The door shut behind her.

Harvey scooted his chair closer. He wasn't going to eavesdrop, just  
make sure everything was okay. As it was, he heard nothing but pleasant  
murmurs through the door for the next few minutes.

After a bit, he heard Fox, closer, ask, "Can I speak with you outside  
for a minute?" Harvey moved his chair away from the door just before it  
opened.

As soon as it closed, and ignoring him completely, Fox turned to her  
mom. "Why are you doing this to him?" she asked in a whisper.

"Doing what?" Harvey nodded in happy agreement with Mrs. R.

"You know what I mean. You promised no more spells."

Spells? Oh yeah, Mr. R. got fainting spells.

"I did no such thing. I promised to tell the truth."

Fox sighed and asked, "Are you using any spells on him?"

"No."

"Then what the hell are you doing? He looks different, he talks  
different. You're changing him. Why?"

Harvey kept his eyes off-focus on the nurses' station across the way  
and did his best impression of a potted plant.

"I'm not changing him. He's changing himself. He looks different  
because he's combed his hair and made Preston bring him in nicer  
pyjamas."

Fox stared at her mom. "You're kidding."

"Look at him, Fox. Really look at him. Do you remember what he  
was like when he was happy? He's happy now. Why are you angry with  
me?"

Mrs. R. was right, perfectly right. Of course she was a good influence  
on Mr. R., and Fox should see that.

"I want to know why you're doing it!" Her whisper was strained.  
"You have never done anything for either of us that didn't benefit you in  
some way."

Mrs. R. went serious. "Girl, you will never know all I have done for  
you both which has acted very much against my best interests."

"I don't believe you."

"That is your prerogative."

"Are you going to stay here?"

"I had planned that, yes."

"Fine," said Fox. " I'll be back later."

"You don't have to leave because I'm here."

"I'd like to talk to my father when I'm sure it's him." Fox turned and  
walked away, arms folded against her stomach.

Harvey felt bad for her. He hadn't talked with his old man in five  
years, ever since ...

"Harvey?" said Mrs. R.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Take a nap."

"Yes, ma'am." His eyes were closed before her hand touched the  
doorknob.

VVVVV

The city was always more peaceful from the viewpoint of just below  
the clouds. Lex loved gliding on the currents, keeping watch from a  
vantage point unmatched by any creature without wings. He did a spin,  
just to feel the wind caress his entire body. Night after night for too long a  
time, he'd been cooped up in the lower levels of the Eyrie Building,  
working with the group.

Part of him poked him and mentioned he should be down there now,  
since he did have a job to do. He shoved that part away, and glanced over  
to his companion.

Nash flew silently close by, and Lex was struck by his resemblance to  
his father. He lacked Brooklyn's long beak, having his mother's more  
muted features, but for that he could be Brooklyn at his side again as they  
had been fifteen years ago.

"Damn," he said aloud.

"What?"

"It just really hit me. Your dad isn't the guy I knew. He's had a  
lifetime where I haven't been."

Nash shrugged, dipping his wings as he did. "I guess. He seems like  
the same person to me."

"Did you guys always travel together?"

"Yeah. Before Tachi was hatched, I got lost once. Um. Madagascar,  
early 1600's I think. Mom and Dad danced out with the Gate."

"On purpose?" Lex couldn't believe for a second Brooklyn would  
willingly leave his child behind.

"Naw, they got caught. It's never exactly predictable."

"But you found each other again."

"Yeah. Like, three jumps later, they ended up on the continent a few  
days before they danced out the first time. By the time they found me, it  
was maybe a day later."

Lex wrapped his head around the story. Time travel tenses and clone  
pronouns always made him uneasy.

"Weird," he said finally.

"Yeah. So is there anything else to do but glide around?"

"Sure. But we don't do them. We might get seen."

"You know, in the future, gargoyles walk the streets the same as  
humans, and nobody cares."

"I'm going to pretend you didn't tell me that. You're not supposed to  
tell us what happens, remember?"

"Right, right. So, you wanna know your mate's name?"

Lexington fell two storeys before catching another gust. His heart  
pattered in his chest as he reached altitude with Nashville again.

Nash grinned back at him. "Had you."

Lex growled. "I'm gonna ... " Nash dropped, on purpose, and Lex  
chased him through the air. They skimmed low over the bay, and slid  
neatly up the side of a bridge cable. A late model Buick, its driver  
watching them slack-jawed, smacked into the back of a BMW. Lex  
shouted "Sorry!" to the dark-haired man and blonde woman inside the  
Beamer, and was back on the chase.

They glided into Queens, past Flushing Meadows, and finally, Nash  
perched atop an office building. Lex landed beside him, panting and  
deliriously happy.

"That was fun," Nash admitted. "For a start." Then he jumped, and  
the game continued.

VVVVV

This time, Anastasia had brought a stereo, and a few cd's. The black  
plastic stereo was cheap, probably bought at a dimestore along the way.  
The speakers had a tinny sound when they played, but compared to the  
music piping in from the hospital's overhead speakers, he could have been  
in a concert hall. They'd listened to Strauss, and then Chopin, and then  
she'd played a selection by Vaughan Williams he'd never heard before, but  
echoed inside him like a song long forgotten. Now they had returned to  
Strauss, who made a spritely background to their conversation.

"I heard from George a few months ago," Halcyon said. "He finally  
retired from that college."

"Good for him. Does he know what he's going to do with his  
retirement?"

"Horticulture. Man's been a closet plant freak for forty years. Now he  
can putter in his garden all day long."

Anastasia smiled. "Have you spoken with Diana at all?"

"Mathers? Not in an age. Preston's been handling the executive  
hiring, and everything else goes through HR."

"I remember a time when you interviewed every prospective new  
employee yourself, from the janitors up."

He snorted. "Hated that. You were always better at meeting people."

"True, but I always wanted to be back at the bench doing real work."

He watched her as she leaned in the chair beside him, eyes closed,  
hand drifting lazily with the music. "Tell me," he said.

"What?"

"You hired Burnett. You hired David. Did you know?"

She paused. Soft violins played in the silence. "I knew who Owen  
was, yes. We've known each other too long to disguise ourselves  
effectively. All I knew about David was what his resume told me."

"Puck ... He said it was a game."

Her mouth quirked. "For him, most things are."

"Was I?"

"At first. But not always." She took his hand. "And it was a merry  
chase, was it not?"

He rested his hand over hers. "It was."

She stiffened.

"Ana?"

She removed her hand and stood. "I have to go."

"Go where?"

"Back. I've just been summoned."

"And you're just going?" He frowned. "I could never even get you to  
come into the living room without saying 'Please.'"

"I'll be back," she said, distracted. "I promise. I'll be back. Will you  
tell Fox?" He nodded.

And she shivered into her other form, the strange, alien form he had  
known long ago in his dreams, and later on the few video images David's  
security cameras had been able to show him.

She bent over him, placed a cool kiss on his cheek, and she was gone.

VVVVV

They were in the living room, Fox on the floor with Alex and Tachi,  
when the phone rang. Broadway was closest and answered it.

"Hello?" He paused. "Hi! Yeah, she's here. Hold on." He handed  
the phone to Fox. "It's your father."

"Thanks," she said, taking the phone and walking it into the hallway.  
From outside, Elisa heard her say, "Hi Dad. How're you feeling?" A  
pause. "I see."

Elisa tuned the conversation out, giving the mistress of the house her  
privacy. Katana bent down to where Fox had sat, and took over the role of  
Holder of Things. Elisa looked around, wondering where Lex and Nash  
had gotten to this time. Lexington had been spending time with the boy,  
trying to coax him into the clan. Last night, Lex had downloaded some  
music and played it for him, while Nashville listened, thinking about  
whatever place it had been where he'd been happy.

Owen appeared in the doorway. Elisa's shoulders hunched. She'd  
been avoiding him since he'd taken away her last hope for Daniel.

"Detective? May I have a moment?"

Brooklyn stood up from the couch. "Is he bothering you, Elisa?"

"No. We'll be right outside."

She joined him in the outer corridor. "Yes?" she asked, more sharply  
than she'd intended.

"I have been in discussion with one of my cousins," he said quietly,  
ignoring her tone. Her heart jumped, as he told her, "There may be another  
option."

"Tell me what I have to do."

VVVVV  
Interlude  
VVVVV

The Guardian had asked Michael and Aeneas to dig her grave. It was  
a nice patch of ground, which he said was sunny but not too sunny during  
the day.

None of Oberon's came with them to bury her. The Queen was not on  
the Island, and she would have been the only one. So it was just their  
family, the thirty-five of them, and Boudicca, and the Guardian, who  
insisted on carrying her from the palace.

Ophelia walked beside her, holding her hand. "I wish," she said, tears  
running down her green face. "I wish."

"Me, too."

"Why did she send me away?" asked her sister. "What did she say to  
you?"

"I'm not sure," said Angela, not truthfully. She had heard, although  
she could not claim to have understood. Katharine had gone on about her  
father, about the egg in Angela's belly, and then she'd had another  
conversation with someone Angela could not see.

Almost.

Angela had met a ghost, once, of the Norseman who'd ordered the  
destruction of their clan, and the Captain who'd betrayed them. She had  
seen no ghosts in the room. But she'd felt something, under her wings, in  
her spine, something strange and unexpected and familiar, and she'd heard  
inside her mind the notes of a half-remembered lullaby.

"I'm not sure what I saw," she whispered to herself, and they had  
reached the clearing, where Julius and Michael were just putting the  
shovels out of view. The grass had still not grown back over the older  
mound, and Angela winced for her siblings, who had lost two parents in  
the course of a month.

The Guardian, with some difficulty, placed Katharine into her grave.  
None of them moved forward to help; he would never have accepted it.  
He whispered something to her, something only he knew, and kissed her  
hand.

He stood like the statues they became, as one by one, the Eggs stood  
by Katharine's side and said their farewells, leaving her flowers, bits of  
seashell, other tiny things.

Angela took her turn. "I will never forget you," she whispered, and  
placed a sprig of hyacinth beside her.

Beside her, Ophelia continued to sob, as did so many of her siblings.  
Angela pulled her wings closer around her body. She had not cried, not  
yet. She was too numb for tears.

When the last had spoken, Ariadne and Dido pulled a thin sheet over  
her, so she would not get dirty. Gabriel tossed a spadeful of dirt into the  
grave, that spattered like rain against the cloth. The Guardian trembled as  
it hit, but he stayed, they all stayed, until she was covered up, warm and  
snug.

There were stones, and the Guardian built a small cairn. Avalon had  
no predators but them, and there would be no wolves.

The Eggs slipped away, in twos and threes, back to the palace or to  
secret places. At last, she stood with Gabriel and Ophelia behind the  
Guardian. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his  
strong shoulders.

"When you need us," Angela said, "we'll be home."

"Aye," he breathed. As they turned away, Angela saw him limned in  
strands of moonlight standing by Katharine's grave, unmoving and alone.

VVVVV  
December 21, 1997  
VVVVV

Maggie and Claw brought the last presents into the chamber. Names  
had been carefully printed on each package, and an eye had been kept to  
make sure none of the various children of the Labyrinth had been favored  
overmuch above the rest. Around them, other residents of the Labyrinth  
moved makeshift tables, and brought in food that had been cooking all  
day: savory hams and pies and bread baked in the two ovens they'd fitted  
up on borrowed electricity.

Maggie looked over to where Derek held Daniel, talking with his  
sister in a low voice. They would be absent from the party tonight. Derek  
hadn't explained how or why, had only told her that they may have found a  
way to help her son. She had to believe in him, and she tried.

"Kids'll be awake soon," she said to Claw, to say something. He  
nodded. "I think they'll like their presents." He nodded again.

Derek and Elisa went out of the chamber, possibly to retrieve  
something, possibly just to talk without being overheard. Maggie began to  
tremble. Claw hugged her from behind. "I'm so scared," she whispered to  
him, oblivious to the others nearby. He squeezed, and she knew he  
understood. "I'm his mother. I should be there with him when they do  
this, whatever it is."

He turned her around and shook his head. In a few quick signs, he  
indicated to her what they both already knew, that this was where she  
needed to be, that this was who she was, and that she needed to trust her  
love and his sister, because this might be Daniel's only chance.

"I know," she said. "I know." Claw placed a rare kiss on her  
forehead, then patted her hair. Maggie smiled. "You're a good friend."

He shrugged.

"Where should we put these?" asked Diane, carrying an armload of fir  
boughs, followed by Peter with another load.

"Around. Everywhere," said Maggie. "Let's be festive, dammit."

VVVVV

Delilah woke with a roar, matched by her brothers. Tonight was the  
party, and she was very excited. She had drawn pictures for her brothers as  
presents, and she couldn't wait to see them be so surprised.

There was another note, under her foot, and she shivered. Someone  
had come while she'd been sleeping, had left this. Not Thailog. Someone  
helping him. It could be anybody.

She bent down to wipe at some stone bits still on her legs, and grabbed  
the note. She pressed it into her hand, hoping the boys didn't see.

"Gonna go check on the egg," she said.

"Want help?" asked Boo.

"Nope," she said and signed at the same time. Scared, she scampered  
quickly to the room where she kept her egg. Like a good mommy, she  
patted the shell, looked at the spots, and then turned it over like Hudson  
had shown her, as she did every night.

"Hi, baby," she said to it. "Hatch soon."

She unfolded the note.

"Delilah,

Come meet me tonight. The usual place."

Tonight? Tonight was the party. There would be presents and food,  
and the real gargoyles would be there, and she really really wanted to go.  
Disappointment welled up in her. She liked this party.

Carefully, Delilah ripped the note into little itty bitty pieces, and  
stuffed it in the nest among the shredded papers she used as her egg's bed.

Maybe she could go to the party, and go away for just a few minutes.  
She could get up top pretty fast, and be back before anyone saw she was  
gone. And if he was there, she would tell him that she didn't want to go  
away with him, that she didn't want to play the Game with him, that she  
liked Maggie and Talon and Claw and Ruth and that she wanted to stay  
with her brothers.

What if he told her to go away with him anyway? What if he said he  
would hurt them if she didn't go?

'Lilah wrapped her wings around herself, then bent over to kiss the  
egg's shell as she folded her arms in front of her heart. "Love you, baby.  
Won't let anything happen to you."

Then she skipped off to the party.

VVVVV

Talon wrapped the blanket a little tighter around Daniel, as they  
passed through another cavernous opening. Deeper and darker they had  
gone than even he'd known these passages extended. There had to be  
miles of tunnels running beneath the city, and here, he had naively  
assumed the Labyrinth to be unique. The top of the cavern was lost in the  
darkness over his head. He craned his neck back to get a better view, and  
tripped over fallen stone.

"Careful!" said Elisa, stepping over the rocks as gracefully as she  
could. Owen continued to lead, unaware or uncaring of their struggles  
behind him, his thin beam of light all that separated them from utter  
blackness.

"Is there a reason we couldn't have done this back in the Labyrinth?"  
Talon asked, as something skittered over his feet.

"Yes," replied Owen.

The darkness was already beginning to spook him. Owen, or whoever  
he really was, wasn't going to help them. He was leading them into some  
abandoned and forgotten place where they'd never be found and he would  
kill them and leave the bones.

"We're here," said Owen, and snapped off his light. There passed a  
blood-curdling moment of pure night, and then ...

"Welcome," said a kind voice, as a doorway (stone? steel?) slid  
smoothly open before them, spilling blessed amber candlelight into the  
dimness. "I am called Narcissa," said the voice from within the room.

Owen led the way in, Elisa and Talon close behind him. Talon  
blinked in the sudden brightness. Every horizontal surface in the small  
chamber was covered in candles: birthday candles, long white tapered  
beauties, handmade and smoky red and green dribblers, squat scented  
lavender bricks. The air shimmered from the heat and smoke, and in a  
chair near the center of the room sat an old dark-skinned woman, smoking  
a pipe, and rocking slowly. Her clothes were gayly colored rags, and her  
eyes were matched pearls. They opened wider when Talon came into the  
room.

"So it is true. Let me see this little boy with wings."

Talon found himself bringing his son to her without any conscious  
thought of his own. He placed Daniel into her arms, and she stared for a  
long time at him, memorizing his leonine features. "He's a beautiful boy."  
She turned her strange eyes to Owen. "You were right."

"Will you help him?" Talon asked.

"I don't know if I can. But we shall see."

"It's half past eleven," said Owen. "Now that you see he will be safe,  
you should wait outside."

"What?" asked Talon, and he heard his sister ask the same a moment  
behind. He continued, "I'm staying with him."

The old woman shot a look to Owen, who said, "That might not be  
advisable."

"I'm staying," he said, and took his child from the woman.

Owen sighed. "Detective, I would ask you at least to go. But you will  
have to go back all the way."

"Why can't I just wait outside like you said?"

"There are reasons. Here." He handed her the flashlight, and turned it  
at the tip, just so. "When you shine this, you will see the path leading you  
back to where you belong. As long as you follow it, no harm will come to  
you." Elisa stared at him, and then the flashlight, until Owen offered a  
very small smile. "Alexander is learning charms. He's quite good."

"Derek, are you sure you want to stay here?"

"He's my son."

"All right." She embraced him quickly, then kissed the baby on the  
forehead. "I'll go back to the party, tell everybody not to worry."

"Do that. I'll see you soon." _I hope._

After she was gone, the door in place behind her, Owen turned to his  
companion, and spoke to her in tones too low for Talon to hear, even with  
his extra-keen senses. He busied himself with the baby, checking for  
leaks, fussing with the blankets, trying not to think about what was about  
to happen.

He wondered how the party was going. Maggie would be desperately  
worried, but she'd be trying to hide it by playing with the kids and keeping  
their spirits up. In his mind's eye, he could see Boo and Brent trying to  
coax Nashville into playing a game, while Tachi and 'Lilah opened their  
new dolls: a blue winged gargoyle for Tachi, a purple one for 'Lilah.  
Banky and Holly would meanwhile be checking out the food. Broadway  
would be right beside them. Lex and Brooklyn would be trying to look  
cool, although Brooklyn would probably spend more time showing off his  
wife. Goliath would be making small talk, however painful, with Mom  
and Dad, but all three would be watching the doorways, praying.

"It's time," said Narcissa. Her voice changed. Before, she'd had a  
light accent, Jamaican by the sound. Now, the tones were accented  
differently, not unlike Owen's had been when he'd changed to the funny  
short guy. Talon raised his head, and tried not to be surprised to see that  
she'd changed. Instead of an old woman, she was now hardly more than a  
girl, perhaps eighteen, curved in all the right places, and her rags were like  
a gypsy's costume. She twirled, and she burned in the light like a phoenix.

The woman said, "Place him on the chair, child."

Talon kissed him, and then did as he was told.

"Now stand back," said Owen, who had not changed to the funny  
short guy. He stood in his shirt and tie, which were blowing in the wind,  
which was odd, because there was no wind, and Talon drew back from the  
chair, from his son, and watched in fear.

The intense light in the room dimmed abruptly, although the candles  
continued to burn; it seemed a filter had been drawn over his eyes,  
shadowing them from something he did not dare see, and yet could not live  
but try.

"Come to us, O Dark One!" said Owen.

"Come to us, O Guide Between Worlds!" said the woman.

"Come to us, O Dread Saviour!"

"Come to us, Anubis!"

A crack split through the room, louder than thunder, and Talon  
covered his ears, only to realize that the noise was inside his head, and  
filled him. He wanted to scream from pain, only with the strongest of  
efforts did he stop himself.

The haze in the room coalesced into a green, glowing form, which  
formed a face like a dog's on the body of a man. He, or it, wore clothing  
that could possibly be described as Egyptian, but probably could not be  
described as especially warm. The being asked in a voice like lead dipped  
in honey: "Who has called me forth?" It tilted its head, took in the  
candles, and Owen standing beside the woman.

"Oh. You two."

They both kneeled momentarily, and rose again.

"My Lord Anubis," said the woman, "You have come tonight for this  
child?"

"Yes." It stretched forth a hand towards Daniel.

Instinct screamed inside Talon, telling him to rush forth, protect his  
child. A warning look from Owen told him that would possibly be the last  
mistake he could ever make.

"We wish to strike a bargain," said Owen.

"I do not bargain. I do not make deals. I am the ultimate justice. I am  
the final mercy."

"You struck a bargain with me once," said the woman.

"Yes," Anubis said, the voice faltering for a microsecond. "That was  
long ago."

"And yet you still honor it."

"I honor that which I swear," he said.

"The child is special," said Owen. He glanced at Talon furtively. "He  
has a destiny, or could. See for yourself." _Destiny?_

The being leaned over the baby for a long moment. "I have taken  
those with destiny before this. Many a would-be king has come to me  
before taking his throne."

"This is different," said Owen.

"I fail to see how," said the being, and there was a touch of impatience  
in the voice.

"We make the standard offer. Life for life," Owen said.

"I do not have to accept the offer," it replied. "A mother offers her life  
every day for her children. I do not accept trades."

"Yes you do," said Narcissa, and there was an age in her voice beyond  
what Talon had previously suspected, age and grief.

The being considered her for a moment. "Why do you make this  
offer, Narcissa? What is this child to you?"

"I can read his life as well as you. There is a future where he may  
help restore my family to Avalon. I should like to see that occur."

Anubis nodded. "And you, Puck?"

Owen said, "I owe a favor. This is the payment."

"You pay your debts in blood?"

"When necessary."

Anubis turned to Talon. Fear slipped through him like a blade, but he  
held firm before the jackal god. "You are the boy's father."

"Yes."

"You are willing to make the trade? A life for a life?"

He swallowed. "I am."

"It is done."

The thunder crack echoed through the tiny room again, and Talon held  
his head, hoping that his death would be quick.

And then came silence.

Talon opened his eyes.

The candles were blinding in their brilliance, and he held his hand  
over his face. His hand was still covered in fine dark fur, tipped with the  
sharp talons which had given him his new name. So, he was going  
through the afterlife as a mutant. At least his son would live.

He looked at Owen and Narcissa, wanted to thank them for allowing  
this, wanting to ask Owen to see Daniel back to the Labyrinth for him. He  
wondered if they could hear him.

"Hello?" he tried.

"Yes?" asked Owen, straightening his tie.

"You can hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you."

Narcissa, in her old woman form once more, went to her chair, and  
picked up Daniel, chucking him under the chin. He opened his eyes, then  
giggled. It was the most magical sound Talon had ever heard.

"Oh," he breathed. "I'm glad I got to hear that." He paused. "So, um,  
I don't know how this works. Do I haunt people now? I was kind of  
expecting a little more ... " He flailed, and then stopped as both Owen and  
Narcissa stared at him.

"What on earth are you going on about?" asked Owen.

"Well, I'm dead now."

"No you're not," said Narcissa.

"I'm not?"

"No," said Owen.

"Okay, now I'm confused." He went to his son, and still afraid Daniel  
would drop through his arms, took his from Narcissa. He was blessedly  
solid, and not going anywhere. "So I'm not dead. What did he mean by  
'A life for a life?' I thought I was about to die."

"That is not how it works," said Narcissa, and she looked at Owen,  
then shuffled around the room blowing out candles as she went.

"The trade was a life for a life. All three of us made the bargain, and  
Anubis accepted. The standard practice is that the first person you see  
when you go home will be the one to die."

"WHAT! I didn't agree to that! I agreed to my own death!"

"That wasn't the bargain."

"I don't care! I'm not about to go back and kill off someone I know!"

"You're going to have to eventually," said Narcissa. "It will be  
someone from your protectorate, someone you love. If you go out and  
look at a random passer-by on the street, nothing will happen to that  
person. Only someone who means something to you will suit. That is the  
price." She blew out the penultimate candle.

"But I can't ... " Who? One of the others from the Labyrinth? One of  
his family? Maggie? The thought of killing her by merely looking at her  
drove a cold stake into his stomach, and he sank to the chair. "Oh god."

"It may not be immediate," said Owen, not unkindly. "Death will  
come soon, without question, but not necessarily tonight."

"That's why you told Elisa to go back. If she'd been waiting outside  
... "

"She still may be," Owen reminded him.

"I can't go back. Ever."

"That is something you must decide for yourself," said Narcissa.  
"You can't stay here. I will lead you both out of my territory. Where you  
go after that is your own business."

"Thank you," he said, numbly, clutching his child. Daniel squirmed,  
trying to get a look around him. "Thank you, for what you did tonight."

She cocked her head. "If that one destiny of his is the one he follows,  
that will be repayment for me. I should like to return to Avalon, just once.  
But in the meantime, there is one thing you must promise me."

"Name it."

"You live in other tunnels, away from these."

"Yes."

"There are others, not here, but close. My protectorate. Our territory  
extends to the Spiral Stairs. Keep your people well away from mine. If  
they meet too soon, there will only be sorrow."

"I promise I will do my best to keep our people away." _Assuming I  
ever see any of them again._

She blew out the last candle.

VVVVV

They parted ways at the top of a long, spiral stairway hacked out of the  
stone. Narcissa was spry for a woman of her obvious years, but there was  
a weariness about her which Talon suspected was not part of her human  
disguise.

"Be well, child," she said to him, and touched Daniel's head softly.  
"Raise that boy right. As for you, cousin, I hope to see you again soon."

"Our usual time," he said, and raised a hand. She raised her own,  
clasped his, then melted into the darkness.

"I don't know how to thank you," said Talon, as Owen directed him  
towards the Labyrinth.

"Tell your sister that my debt to her is repaid. If you choose to go  
back." With a nod, he also made his way from Talon and Daniel.

Talon looked down the passageway, the one leading home. Then he  
sank down to the cold stone floor with his back against an equally cold  
wall, held his child in his arms, and wondered what he was going to do.

Did he dare go home? Could he possibly bear the thought of leaving  
right now, taking Daniel, or else leaving him where Maggie was sure to  
find him? Could she ever possibly understand that he'd left because he  
couldn't bear any other thought?

What if he did? What if he welched on his payment? Would Anubis  
come for Daniel anyway?

"Damn damn damn damn," said Talon. Daniel settled in his father's  
arms to sleep.

Talon closed his eyes, and tried to decide what to do.

VVVVV

Winterfest was already slowing down by the time Narcissa stumbled  
towards the Great Chamber, where it was being held. She held her eyes  
closed, guiding her way by feel and smell and sound. She would wait in  
the antechamber, where the coats were stored. When one of the older folk  
came in to gather his or her things, she would simply open her eyes, and it  
would be done. She wondered who it might be: Sebastian, perhaps, or old  
Lucy.

The room was warm, even here away from the press of bodies and  
firelight inside, and she found a comfortable seat among the coats and furs  
and cloaks. From within, she heard children laughing, the squeal of a baby  
or two, beneath it all the hum of dozens of conversations, old friends who  
saw one another too little. The noise was very soothing.

She woke with a start. Light footsteps moved away from her, and she  
cursed herself for being a stupid, sleepy old woman.

The she heard the sound, like a small yawn. Part of her knew what she  
would see, but she could not help herself, as she turned her head, and saw  
the baby, curled up to sleep beside her in the warm pile of coats.

She stroked his face, as perfect and mysterious as his father's, wisps of  
copper hair on his head, and allowed herself a tiny sigh of despair.

"I'm sorry, Micah," she said. Having no other recourse, she picked  
him up, and held him on her lap. After a while, she began to sing a lullaby  
she'd heard long, long ago. The baby slept on.

VVVVV

The elevator slid open before him, and Owen stepped into the acrid-  
smelling corridor. Two woman in blue scrubs walked past him chatting in  
low voices, but Owen was not seen when he did not choose to be seen, and  
they ignored him entirely. The one sleepy guard on duty recognized him as  
someone who could be allowed in the room without question.

Renard stirred as the door opened, stared at him through the dimness,  
and perhaps a drugged confusion. His lips moved, forming a name they  
both knew.

Then he blinked, fully awake. "What do you want?" he demanded.

"I apologize about the late hour, Dr. Renard," said Owen. "I needed to  
see you."

VVVVV

"Talon?" Elisa's voice called him from his sleep. Something in the  
back of his mind told him to push her away, keep her safe, and then he  
blinked his eyes open. Delilah stood before him, concerned, shaking his  
shoulder gently.

"Talon, you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Daniel ... " Daniel looked up at him, blue eyes clear  
and watchful, more full of life than ever before, and everything flooded  
back to him. "Oh god, 'Lilah, get back!" But it was too late, far too late,  
even as she backed away in confusion.

"'Lilah, what are you doing out here?"

She looked down and away. "Wanted to get away for awhile. Wanted  
to find you." She wasn't being entirely truthful, but there was no time for  
that now.

"'Lilah, how do you feel?"

She shrugged. "Okay."

He stood. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yep." He watched her. Uncomfortable in his gaze, she wrapped her  
wings around herself. "You're weird," she said.

He smiled. "A little, yeah. Come on. Let's go home."

"Okay!" They walked together back towards the Labyrinth. He  
couldn't help but continue to sneak glances at her, even as they reached the  
party, and Maggie took Daniel from his arms, even as the others gathered  
'round to see the miracle, the boy who was going to live. He watched her  
all night, only listening with half an ear as he received congratulations  
from the clan, whoops of joy and hugs from the other clones. When his  
father embraced him with pride, he watched 'Lilah on the other side of the  
room, playing with Boo, and part of him desperately wanted to believe that  
as long as he kept watch over her, she would be all right.

It would all be all right.

VVVVV  
Interlude  
VVVVV

"You're certain this is what you want?"

The Queen surveyed them: a scattering of female gargoyles, half of  
what they called a clan and still barely more than a handful. She could  
recall nights when the sky had been black with wings, and the air filled  
with cries. Mortals, not unlike the mortals she knew and loved in the  
World, had devastated and destroyed much of the once-noble race. It had  
been her observation of this, her contempt for the lack of forethought and  
compassion, which had been the final straw long, long ago. Oberon had  
called her arrogant, but then, had he not shown his own arrogance in  
daring to bring before her another half-mortal bastard?

She shook her head, clearing away the old arguments. They had  
reconciled, and here she stood by his side, listening to the petition of these  
gargoyles.

"We are certain, Your Majesty," said Angela, and the rest nodded,  
some in surer agreement than others. Grief tinged many faces, and fear of  
the unknown.

"Then say your good-byes and come forth."

The females broke away from their small grouping, went to the males,  
embraced some, touched hands with others. The Guardian touched each of  
his foster sons on an arm, a shoulder, a wing. Sorrow lived on every face,  
and lined his deeply.

"Guardian," said one of the boys, a tall bald grey, "Dido and I want to  
go with you." Beside him stood one of the few females who was not  
expecting, a lemon-yellow with matching curls.

"It willna be easy," said Tom. "I don't know even where I'm goin'  
just now."

"All the more reason to have friends with you," replied the female.  
"Aeneas and I are both tired of just hearing about the World. We want to  
see it for ourselves."

"Then ye'll be welcome company." The pair clasped hands in delight,  
and then whispered their own good-byes to the clan.

Tom approached a golden-haired male and clasped his arms. "You're  
in charge now, Gabriel. I dunna know when I'll return."

"Just promise that you will," he replied.

"Aye."

Familiarity trickled down the Queen's spine, for had she not just made  
the same promise to someone as human as Tom? A pattern came complete  
to her mind, and sorrow. Tom would keep his promise. With a heavy  
heart, she knew that she would not, that she would never again see the face  
of her last lover, and so she turned her head away, that Oberon should see  
no tears.

VVVVV

Angela readied herself to step through Oberon's mirror, when there  
was a hand at her arm. "Not yet," he pleaded.

She stepped back, and allowed him to move her a few paces aside.  
"I'm sorry," Gabriel said. "And I love you. I always will."

"I know," she said, and held him. "I can't even promise you that  
maybe I'll come back. But you are forever in my heart." She kissed him,  
pressing her lips against his, as a sister might. "I do love you. Be happy  
for me."

"I am. My sorrow is my own."

She swallowed, then moved back towards the mirror. "Time to do  
this."

She stepped into the quicksilver surface, allowed the colors to  
surround her, took one glance behind, and saw what she could not before:  
Coldstone's face. The part of her that had once been Coldfire trembled  
with a mother's love for him, and he passed from her sight.

VVVVV

All was dark, and she did not know where she was, and then the smell  
came to her, of humans in close quarters and the ground-in stench of  
kerosene, and she knew the Labyrinth.

Angela stumbled against a table, almost spilling food everywhere  
before she could stand. Then her eyes focused, and in fear she looked  
about her until at last she espied him, amazed and mute at her unexpected  
arrival.

"My love," she breathed, and she was in his arms, and she wept for a  
thousand years as her sisters arrived, one by one, behind her.

VVVVV

"I don't like this," said Elisa, as Goliath swooped towards the Eyrie  
Building.

"You do not have to enjoy it."

"They should be at the castle."

"They are safer in the Labyrinth."

"Look, I don't trust Xanatos any more than you do, but come on."

"Elisa," he said, setting them down on a convenient roof. "Believe  
me, I would much rather the eggs hatch in their ancestral home." He  
paused; she suspected he was still in a little shock over the news he was  
going to be a grandfather. At least he'd stayed conscious. Poor Broadway.

"But we cannot trust our clan's future to him. I will not allow him that  
control."

"So they lay their eggs in the Labyrinth, and we care for the eggs there,  
and then what? What happens when we have a dozen hatchlings running  
around who deserve to be with their clan?"

He bowed his head. "We will consider that when the time comes.  
Please, Elisa. Support me in this."

She looked out onto the city. "For now," she said. "But you know  
that it means Angela stays away, too."

"I know. But we can visit her often."

There was sorrow in his face at her continued absence, yes, but far  
more joy at her safe return.

"Let's go home."

They said nothing else along the way. Elisa's thoughts turned to  
Katharine, and Tom. They'd known she'd been at death's door. It was the  
very reason Angela had returned to Avalon. Still, the news saddened her,  
not for her own loss although she had come to care deeply for the Princess.  
She knew Angela would grieve for the mother she'd lost. And Tom ...

Leaving Avalon couldn't be a good idea for him. What she knew of  
grief told her the safest place would be among friends, in familiar places,  
not wandering the World alone. The Avalon gargoyles had coaxed him  
into staying for a little while, and when he did go, apparently two of them  
were tagging along to keep watch.

But Elisa worried nonetheless. She could only imagine the pain of  
losing her true love forever.

Safe in her lover's arms above the sleeping city, she squeezed his neck  
a little tighter. In response, she felt the tightening of his embrace, and  
knew peace.

Shortly before dawn, they touched down alone at the top tower. The  
others would stay in the Labyrinth for the short day. Goliath kissed her  
softly, was interrupted by the buzzing of the telephone over the speaker.

"Somebody will get that," she said, but it continued buzzing, and it  
_was_ the house line.

Goliath went downstairs and answered the phone. Elisa felt a warm  
sensation as he said, "Hello," in his rich, deep voice.

"I see," he said. "I will tell her." He set the phone into its cradle.

Owen appeared as he set it down, still dressed, Elisa couldn't help but  
notice, in what he had worn down to the cave. Moments later, Fox  
appeared, with Xanatos behind her, covering a yawn with the back of his  
hand. The baby monitor's silence suggested Alex still slept.

"Who was that?" asked Xanatos.

Goliath said nothing, for a long moment.

"Vogel." He looked at Fox. "I am sorry."

As comprehension moved over her face like the tide, Elisa's eyes were  
drawn to Owen. He made no movement, only stood there as his employer  
wrapped his arms around Fox, who had begun to weep.

VVVVV  
Postlude  
VVVVV

They knew of beginnings and endings. Their time with the one, the  
dancer, was no longer to be a part of their experience, had ended. They  
had seen the end of the dancer, of his children, of his children's children,  
but before he had become an intimate part of their being. In the now-time,  
the promise of his eternal absence from them gave them pause. They had  
no use for emotion, but if such a thing could have existed for them, they  
would have known a sluggish sorrow rather than this mere quietude of  
purpose.

They waited.

As a beacon from a long-dark and distant harbor, they sensed something  
new, something real. Another right one stirred above the waters in the vast  
rush that was the timestream, and had they known joy, they would have  
shouted in delight.

They waited, and floated, knowing without doubt that they would approach  
this new right one at the exact right time.

And their long journey would find an ending.

VVVVV

A/N: For clarity's sake, please note that the interludes took place for the most  
part before this story, chronologically speaking, but were added for the  
sake of the story.


End file.
